


Wandering Home

by Dracoduceus



Series: Wandering Home [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Ace Trainer Jesse McCree, Background Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Idiots in Love, Jigglypuff don't fuck around, M/M, Offscreen character death, Offscreen character violence, Pokemon AU, Pokemon Caretaker Hanzo, hand-holding, only one bed (kind of)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:07:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22357669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracoduceus/pseuds/Dracoduceus
Summary: Ace Trainer McCree was only looking for a battle to fill the time as he traveled. Instead he found the grumpiest Fisherman he had ever met. After insulting him without meaning to, McCree gets an unexpected chance to make amends when he comes across an injured Magikarp.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Series: Wandering Home [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1917211
Comments: 142
Kudos: 380





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> To be honest, I'm not the most knowledgeable about Pokemon. Or the Galar region. I asked for a lot of help for this and scared people with the...types of questions I was asking. _But_ without their help, I couldn't have done this, so thank you, Hero and Kem ;)

Perhaps it was just a symptom of bad weather but the route, which had been promised to be crowded, was disappointingly empty. He had seen a few children out, but they had been too distracted with playing in mud puddles or running home to be interested in battling him. 

Not to mention battling children outside of a teaching event didn’t quite appeal to him. 

Sighing, McCree paused under a nearby awning, surveying the cloudy sky. It didn’t look like the rain would let up soon and he had wanted to get some training done on the way to the next city. However, Nature always had its own rules and he was ever at its whim. 

Not to mention, the foul weather probably wouldn’t yield very many interesting pokemon. Consulting his map, he found that he was about halfway to the next town and there was a small collection of buildings—not enough to be called a proper village, but enough that there may be a place to stay—not too far away. 

He’d try for that, he decided. If it’s too far away, then he’ll use his Talonflame and Fly back to the nearest town and see if he could start again tomorrow. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad—Reyes was forever telling him that he needed to get more exercise and maybe if the weather cleared, he’d find more trainers willing to battle. 

Cheered up at least a little, he ducked out from under the awning and walked briskly down the path. At least it had stopped raining, but the wind was cold and wet and would still probably hamper his team. It’s a good thing that he always liked a challenge, though. 

A few minutes down the road, he paused in surprise. The forest opened up into a large clearing that swept down into a lake. There was a floating dock that edged out into the water and standing on the dock was a person feeding the pokemon. 

Most importantly, McCree noticed a trainer’s belt with three pokeballs attached. 

He walked quickly down the path, careful not to step in any of the puddles left from the rain, and tried to keep the manic grin from his face. Finally! Someone to battle!

As he approached, he sized up his opponent. He was shorter than McCree, with broader shoulders and arms that made him look like a bodybuilder. Despite the chill in the air still lingering from the rains, he wore a sleeveless vest and swim trunks. One arm was decorated in tattoos of crashing waves. 

“Hey!” McCree called as he stepped on the docks and began walking out. 

The man glanced back at him. He had dark eyes and a dark beard. His hair was held in a topknot and out of his face by a twisted blue and white cloth band. Then he turned away from McCree. “I’m not interested,” he said shortly. 

Surprised, McCree slowed. “Pardon?” he asked. Most others he’d met on the road would at least give him the time of day, would at least greet him. This man’s prickly response threw him off his game. 

“I _said_ ,” the man told him with exaggerated patience. “I’m _not interested_.” 

“I haven’t said anything,” McCree protested. 

“I know your type.” 

Huffing, McCree crossed his arms and stomped over. The dock bobbed beneath him and he slowed down to catch his balance. Frustratingly, the man was well-braced and the movement of the docks didn’t seem to bother him. 

“My type?” he demanded. “And what type might that be?” 

The man snorted. “The type that looks for battles,” he said, the last word coming out like a curse. “‘Our eyes have met, we must battle.’ Isn’t that it, _Ace Trainer?_ ” 

McCree blinked in surprise. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Ace Trainer, yes, but I don’t think you understand—”

“Oh, I understand well enough,” the man said tartly. He dusted his hands off and picked up the bucket at his feet. “And I want nothing to do with it.” 

“It’s okay,” McCree protested. “It’s not like I’m going to go crazy. I’m still training up my team—and besides, my team is all Fire-types.” he gestured to the pokeballs on the man’s belt. “I bet those Water-types you got will kick my team to the dust. Don’t worry, I can make it worth your while.”

The man turned, face twisted in a furious snarl. “Do you think so low of your team?” he demanded. “That you’re excited for them to be beaten? Is _that_ what gets you excited? To watch your Pokemon in pain?” With an inarticulate snarl, the man turned and began walking back to shore.

Realizing just how badly he screwed up, McCree chased after him on the bobbing dock. “Wait!” he cried. “That’s not… Look, I’m sorry, you don’t gotta leave on my account.” 

“The Pokemon I was waiting for has already fled,” the man hissed. “I may as well leave and get other work done.” With that, he left McCree standing alone on the bobbing dock. 

Watching the man go, McCree scrubbed a hand over his face. “Fuck,” he groaned when he was sure that the man couldn’t hear him. 

* * *

Though he pretended to grumble as he handed over his opponent’s winnings, McCree was grinning. “A great battle!” he told the other trainer who grinned. “I’d like to battle you again sometime, if that’s alright with you?”

The girl shot him a finger-gun and a wink. “Let me know when you’re ready to lose again,” she said.

Laughing, McCree waved to her again and made his way down the path back to the town to heal up his team. They were due for a rest anyway, and the day was just beginning. It shouldn’t take long for them to recover and then he’d take them out for a relaxing picnic. They’d been working hard—it was time for a break.

So caught up in his thoughts, he almost didn’t notice the pond.

It could hardly be called a pond—in fact, it looked more like the tide pools he’d seen at the shore. With the heavy rains in the area, a nearby river must have overflowed its banks and allowed the poor Magikarp to swim out into the pond; when the rains stopped, it must have been trapped.

The pond was too small for it and it looked ill, moving sluggishly. Swearing, he trotted over and held out a hand to the Magikarp. “Hey, bud,” he murmured. “Let me help you, ‘kay?”

The Magikarp flopped around but didn’t resist when McCree pulled out a pokeball. Perhaps it was a sign of how bad off it was that it clicked shut without a fuss. Holding it to his chest as if the Pokemon could feel his comfort, McCree walked quickly back to town.

He found Angela and Genji in the waiting room of the Pokemon Center and gratefully walked over to them. Something about the Magikarp had unsettled him and he honestly didn’t know what to do with it. He specialized in Fire-types—he had no idea what to do with a Magikarp! It was difficult enough to take care of his Tauros, stubborn creature that it was.

“There is a shelter nearby,” Genji offered. His Shedinja, who he affectionately referred to as his “useless little shit”, clicked its mandibles and nudged Genji’s leg. Smiling, Genji resumed petting its chitinous back. “Once it’s healed up, we can drop it off there.”

“I suppose,” McCree agreed. “I just feel bad leaving it somewhere.”

“Not many want Magikarp,” Genji told him sympathetically. “They just want a Gyrados at the end of it. But I happen to know the owner of the shelter—he loves those useless things just as they are. It’ll be well taken care of.”

Angela nodded. “I’ve met him,” she agreed. “He knows how to take care of Magikarp,” she added and McCree believed her—while she was a human doctor, she had an interest in Pokemon illnesses as well. “And how to take care of most Water-type Pokemon. He’s good to visit whether you want to keep the Magikarp or not.”

“I’d feel bad just dumping it at the shelter,” McCree admitted. “But I don’t know how it would handle being on a team of all Fire-types.”

“And a Tauros,” Angela said dryly.

McCree rolled his eyes. “And a Tauros,” he agreed with a ragged grin. The Tauros was one of the first Pokemon he had ever caught on his own. The stubborn creature was as bull-headed as its trainer, a fact that Reyes always loved to point out, and was the only non-Fire-type Pokemon that McCree had.

Until this Magikarp.

“Maybe I’ll go on and see this shelter,” McCree decided as they all collected their Pokemon from the smiling nurse. He tipped his hat at her and she giggled as she waved goodbye to them. “Then I’ll decide if I should leave it or keep it with me. Maybe I can find a good place to release it.”

“Releasing Pokemon into the wild isn’t always a good idea,” Angela cautioned. “You don’t know what kind of upset you might cause.” McCree made a face.

“Fine,” he grumbled even though he knew that she was right. “I promised my team that I’d take them on a picnic though. Can we go tomorrow?”

Genji scratched his chin. “There’s a meadow near the shelter,” he said. “We can get the Magikarp settled and then picnic there.”

“A picnic sounds like a great plan,” Angela murmured. “And I think the bakery down the street should be open.”

“There’s a great restaurant nearby too,” Genji added. He always seemed to be thinking with his stomach and mapped the world around his appetite. Whenever McCree visited a new area, he always consulted Genji for local eateries. “I’ll go and get our food. Ange can get the desserts, and you can get the stuff for the Pokemon.”

Genji’s Shedinja chirped, clinging to his back like some strange, armored backpack. As far as McCree knew, the Shedinja did nothing but crawl over Genji and beg for attention. It tapped Genji with one of its limbs, clicking its mandibles and trilling.

Shaking his head, McCree turned and walked away, promising to meet up with his friends in a few minutes.

* * *

“I promised that I’d adopt someone the next time I visited,” Angela explained when McCree found her bent over the computer, rearranging her team to open a slot. “He won’t hold me to it, but a promise is a promise and he has a few Pokemon that I’d been eyeing the last time I visited.”

“Is it like an adoption shelter?” McCree wondered.

She shook her head. “Not really,” she admitted. “It’s mostly for Magikarp but he takes other Water Pokemon as well. For the most part he rehabilitates wild Pokemon before releasing them again. If he can—sometimes he can’t and he does what he can to make sure they’re comfortable.”

“And nobody wants to take an imperfect Pokemon,” McCree said grimly. She nodded. “That’s a shame.”

He stood next to her as she fiddled with the computer. She laughed in triumph when she arranged everything and signed off. “I’m ready,” she added, picking up the pastry box at her feet. “Are you?”

* * *

The small shack was nothing special and if Genji and Angela hadn’t confidently led him to the front door, McCree would have missed it completely. It was tucked around the bend of a lake, hidden by thick trees, and just as Genji had promised, surrounded by a large meadow. The shack itself was built at the end of a wooden dock and the walls almost appeared to drop below the surface of the water.

Genji’s Shedinja chirred and flew to the end of the dock where it peered over the edge into the water. “If you get eaten, it’s not my fault,” Genji called after it. “And I’m not going to rescue your ass, either.”

The Shedinja trilled back and despite not being able to speak in human tongues, it sounded like a string of expletives. Like trainer, like Pokemon, it seemed.

McCree shook his head as Angela opened the door to the shack. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting but…the shack being almost completely empty wasn’t it. There was a line of jars along one side, filled with bait and treats with labels for which Pokemon they were intended for; the back wall had a counter decorated with clipboards of colorful forms.

Seemingly unbothered, Angela walked to the open trapdoor on the right-hand side of the shack and began stepping down the steep stairs. “Watch your step,” she told McCree, the heels of her shoes clicking on the metal steps. “Hold on to the railings.”

“Are you sure we should be down here?” he asked as he carefully eased himself down the nearly-vertical steps.

When he ducked his head beneath the floor, he found himself in a much larger room than expected. It seemed that the shack’s lower level opened out into the lake, with glass walls that allowed a view into the surprisingly-clear waters.

“This is his main staging area,” Angela explained, going up to one of the walls. “He does a lot of his treatments down here as well. Most likely he’s doing a dive so we should see him soon.”

McCree was too distracted by the array of Pokemon that were swimming past the glass window. They seemed just as fascinated by him as he was of them. He saw a small school of Magikarp led by one missing an eye. Another group of Pokemon swam by, all of them bearing scars.

“Feebas,” Angela murmured, pointing to them as they swirled around the window once and disappeared into the depths. “They were all found to have hooks in them—fishermen had cut them free without removing the hooks.”

More Pokemon swam by. Angela pointed out Finneon and Luvdisc and a lone Spheal that drifted lazily across the glass panel. She exclaimed when a shiny Magikarp swam up to the glass.

It was a wretched-looking creature despite its rare status. Though it had both eyes, it was covered in scars that bubbled over its sides. The crown-like crest along its back was missing a prong and none of its fins were whole; one of its whiskers was missing entirely.

Angela waved at it and the Magikarp blew bubbles at the glass as if in greeting before swimming off. “That’s his Magikarp.”

“Ugly thing, isn’t it?” McCree whispered. “I thought—”

“He rescued it,” Angela interrupted. “I don’t know the whole story of how he found it but that’s the meanest Magikarp I’ve ever met. Don’t…go near it. Word to the wise.”

McCree shoved both hands in his pockets even though the Pokemon wasn’t nearby.

Soon the golden Magikarp returned to the glass and seemed to make faces at Angela. Then it rose to the surface and McCree belatedly realized that he could see a pair of legs—human legs with flippers—kicking by the dock. There was a splash and McCree could see the churning legs of Genji’s Shedinja as it sank.

The Magikarp swam up to watch it slowly sink before joining the kicking legs. It was a Pokemon that Angela identified as a Marill that rescued the sinking Shedinja, pushing it up to the surface.

“Does this happen often?” McCree wondered.

“Often enough,” Angela replied. “That Shedinja likes to jump into the water. It seems to forget every time that it can’t swim and Hanzo’s Magikarp has given up rescuing it.”

McCree snorted, thinking of how the Shedinja perfectly matched Genji’s tendency to jump in with both feet. Like trainer, like Pokemon.

“Come on,” Angela suggested, walking back toward the stairs. “Let’s meet them on the docks.”

“Don’t bother,” a voice said from behind them. “I’m coming down.”

McCree was about to turn around when he noticed the golden Magikarp swim across the glass toward a large area that seemed to bubble strangely. He realized belatedly that it was a tank that opened to the lake, allowing Pokemon to interact with the room.

Then he turned because the voice was familiar. “Shit,” he muttered to himself, turning to find that the person coming down the steep stairs was none other than the fisherman he had seen the other day.

“Hello, Angela,” the man said, eyes resting on McCree. “Who is this?”

“You know each other?” Angela asked, looking back and forth between McCree and the man.

“Enough to know that I want nothing to do with him,” the man said, walking to the tank. The Magikarp surfaced and let the man pet its armored forehead. “How can I help you, Angela?”

She looked back and forth between them. “Well, it affects McCree,” she said apologetically. “He found an injured Magikarp earlier today.”

“Let me guess,” the man said, eyes narrowed. “It doesn’t fit in with his wonderful team. Fire-types, didn’t you say? Why would you want a Magikarp?” his lips curled in a sneer. Despite his agitation, he continued to gently stroke the Magikarp.

McCree cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I don’t think my Talonflame might think much of a Magikarp. She likes fish,” he added. “And I don’t know how to take care of a Water-type.”

They all turned as they watched Genji’s Shedinja sink past the window again. A moment later, Genji himself passed as well and the man sighed. The Magikarp in the tank ducked down and swam back out into the lake. As soon as Genji saw the Magikarp exit the tank, he immediately turned around and began swimming frantically toward the surface.

“He doesn’t learn,” the man commented. “Go upstairs,” he told McCree brusquely.

He led the way out and Angela glared at McCree. “What did you do?” she hissed as they began climbing out.

“I saw him the other day and asked for a battle,” McCree whispered back, trying not to whine. “He wasn’t interested.”

Angela muttered to herself as she led the way out of the shack. Genji was lying on the dock with the man standing over him, his arms crossed. They arrived in time to see the Marill—probably the one from earlier—throw Genji’s Shedinja out of the water as well.

“That Magikarp’s a menace,” Genji complained.

“You are a menace,” the man retorted. “And you—and your Ace Trainer friend over there—may see yourselves out.”

Genji lifted his head to look at McCree in surprise. “You know my brother?”

“Your brother?” McCree demanded. He knew that Genji had a brother, but he didn’t often talk about him aside to say that he was an asshole. “That explains a lot.”

Genji’s brother narrowed his eyes at McCree. “He decided that he wanted a battle,” he said shortly. “And didn’t want to take ‘no’ for an answer.”

Sitting up, Genji peered at McCree. “Yeah, that sounds like McCree,” he agreed. “Don’t take it to heart, Hanzo. He treats his Pokemon well.”

“He does,” Angela agreed. “We were actually just about to take a picnic. You should join us.” She held up the pastry box she had been carrying around. “We got those pastries you like.”

Genji’s brother scowled but to McCree’s surprise, ultimately agreed. He sat on the docks with his precious Magikarp while the rest of them sat on solid ground, just near enough for conversation. But as McCree learned, the Magikarp was indeed very aggressive, chasing after Genji’s Shedinja and even trying to chase after his Tauros when he ventured too close to the shore.

“My brother doesn’t do battles,” Genji said quietly while they watched him soothe the angry Magikarp. Seemingly uncaring of the waters of the lake that had risen to his chest when he kneeled, Hanzo cradled Magikarp’s face and ran his hands over the fish’s scarred sides. “As children…we saw a lot of what happened in those underground battles. The kind you won’t see as a normal trainer. Maybe we were too soft-hearted, but we couldn’t…” he sighed. “Those Pokemon _died_ —they didn’t just faint. When you see things like that, it’s hard to believe that anyone can enjoy battles.”

McCree glanced at his Talonflame and scratched her crest. She was his first Pokemon and his oldest friend. Though she hid it well, she was just as scarred as the Magikarp that Hanzo so doted over. Closing her eyes, she leaned into his touch.

“Shit,” McCree muttered.

“He doesn’t talk about it,” Genji added quietly. “But that’s why he never battles.”

Hanzo stood, dripping water, and the Magikarp swam in circles around his legs before allowing him to wade to shore. He walked to their picnic table and refilled his plate. If he was aware of their discussion, he gave no sign.

“I think these noodles are the best in the region,” Genji told his brother. “What do you think?”

“You haven’t had Reinhardt’s cooking, then,” Hanzo said mildly as Angela scooted over to make space for him on the bench.

Genji jabbed a finger at Hanzo. “Those aren’t noodles,” he protested hotly. It was clearly an old argument.

“Hanzo,” Angela interrupted. “Will you look at the Magikarp? McCree took it to the Pokemon Center but we want to be sure that it’s in good health otherwise.”

Hanzo grunted and the look he cast McCree spoke volumes about his belief that McCree would be able to take care of a Pokemon. He tried not to bristle. “I can,” he agreed. “How did you come across it?”

Swallowing his annoyance, McCree recounted how he came across the pond, the battered Magikarp, how it hadn’t even fought back when he offered it the pokeball. Hanzo listened without comment.

For a long moment, Hanzo continued to eat, watching McCree with dark eyes after he finished his story. “I’m glad you found it,” he said gruffly. “Let me have a look at it. Have you decided if you wanted to keep it?”

McCree scratched the back of his head and looked at his Talonflame. “Kind of?” he said. “It seems…dishonest to catch it and not keep it along but…Talonflame might try to eat it.”

Very slowly, Hanzo turned and looked at Talonflame. For a long moment they seemed to have a stare-off. It was Talonflame that looked away and McCree tried not to smile. He didn’t often see someone try to stare down a Pokemon like Talonflame.

Hanzo continued to look at Talonflame and McCree took the moment to look at Hanzo. Though he had a severe expression, McCree was certain that Hanzo wasn’t quite as dour as he seemed. He was certainly very intelligent and seemed to approach Pokemon on their terms rather than as most human trainers might. It was in the way that he was currently asserting dominance over Talonflame—she wouldn’t sway her loyalty to McCree, but she would mind Hanzo’s word when he inevitably warned her against eating the Magikarp.

The moment was broken when Shedinja jumped into McCree’s lap, making him yell in surprise. Talonflame leaped off the table, her feathers smoking in alarm. Genji laughed, nearly falling off the bench.

Shaking his head, Hanzo finished his plate and picked up a rice ball, which he carried back to the lake. As McCree watched, he split it with the shiny Magikarp.

“You spoil that monster,” Genji called to Hanzo who ignored him. The Magikarp glared at him but subsided when Hanzo offered it another piece of his rice ball.

At Angela’s encouraging nod, McCree stood up and walked over to the dock, stopping a respectful distance away from Hanzo. The Magikarp eyed him distrustfully. “Look,” McCree said quietly to the back of Hanzo’s head. “We got off…on the wrong foot. And I’m real sorry. Can we…start over?”

“I don’t battle,” Hanzo said crisply.

“Neither does Ange,” McCree replied. “I was just hot-headed. Not an excuse but there it is. I shouldn’t’a pressured you like that and…well, I’m sorry. About that.”

Hanzo grunted. “Let’s see that Magikarp.”

It wasn’t quite acceptance of the apology, but it’ll have to do. Biting back a sigh, McCree handed over the pokeball.


	2. Chapter 2

He found himself visiting the little shack often.

At first Hanzo was wary of his company, but was won over by McCree’s persistence. Most likely he was actually won over by his determination to take care of the Magikarp correctly. He put his plans of grandeur on hold to lurk in the area while he got used to the new addition to his team.

Genji, upon hearing that McCree had been hanging out in the area, magnanimously offered McCree the use of the room that Hanzo kept for him. Though Hanzo was clearly frustrated by the offer, he admitted to McCree—grudgingly, but sincerely all the same—that he more minded that Genji offered without asking him than he minded McCree’s presence. Still, he agreed that as long as McCree helped out around the shelter, he wouldn’t mind it if he stayed.

Which was how he, an Ace Trainer that specializes in Fire-types, found himself standing in hip-deep lake water as he tried to wrestle a barbed hook out of the mouth of a Whiscash. “Use pliers to break the barb off first,” Hanzo suggested. He was treading water further out, his goggles pushed up on his face.

“Damn thing won’t break,” McCree retorted and used a hand to pet the giant fish’s forehead. “Sorry honey, I know this must smart.” She gurgled, strangely cheerful despite her obvious discomfort. He reached into the pocket of his borrowed tool belt and removed a set of wire clippers. “You’ll feel this,” he warned as he struggled to place the clippers beneath the barb without hurting himself.

The hook snapped cleanly with a bit of effort on his part and he quickly caught the barb before it could sink too far, tucked it into his pouch, and threaded the hook out of the Whiscash’s jaw.

“All set,” he told the Pokemon with a grin. Daringly, as he would have for his Talonflame, he leaned down and kissed the Whiscash between her wide-set eyes. With a happy gurgle, she slipped beneath the water, splashing him.

He laughed and looked at Hanzo, dripping water, to find that he had a strange look on his face. The moment was broken when Hanzo pulled his mask down over his face—obscuring his expression, and sank beneath the water once more.

McCree considered the strange expression as he waded out of the lake. Talonflame was perched on the peak of the shelter’s roof, preening her feathers. Seeing him, she called a greeting and eyed the way he was dripping.

“Yeah, I know,” he told her with a rueful grin. “At this rate, I better get myself some waders.”

Which was when he realized that he was thinking about the long-term. About being here, with Hanzo and the shelter of Water-types, for a long time. Waders weren’t _expensive_ but they weren’t cheap and they weren’t really something that he could use for other things in his travels.

He scrubbed a hand down his face. Shit.

Talonflame hopped down from the roof and he wrapped his arms around her neck. “I’m fucked, aren’t I?” she clicked her beak at him and began preening his hair.

* * *

One of the plus sides of having a Tauros was their great strength. It was rare that it really came up for McCree aside from having him move or break stones along the routes he’s traveled, but it really worked out when Hanzo needed to get large amounts of gravel and food delivered.

He typically had his own delivery person that would bring it most of the way to the shelter, but it was a ways past the main road and the delivery lorries almost never attempted the narrow forest path. Those days Hanzo would painstakingly carry each bag down the path and into the store rooms.

Now he and McCree loaded the bags into a cart that Tauros would pull.

“I think he likes it,” Hanzo mused as the Tauros’s three tails whipped and he tossed his head.

“I don’t exercise him as much as he’d like,” McCree admitted, patting the enormous Pokemon’s slab-like shoulder. “This suits him just fine, though I’m sure he’d hate to be hitched to a plow.”

The Tauros snorted and turned to look at McCree with what could be a scowl on his face. Hanzo laughed.

“A terrible fate,” Hanzo agreed on the other side of Tauros’s head. He was carrying a bag of feed as well, unwilling to let Tauros do all of the work.

A Wingull, another of Hanzo’s ill-tempered rescues, guarded the rest of the supplies that they couldn’t load on the small cart. He was missing an eye, was missing all but two of his tail feathers, and was probably the meanest winged creature McCree had ever met—and he’d met plenty of mean Pokemon in his travels. In the area, the Wingull was known in the area as one of Hanzo’s delivery Pokemon. From what McCree had heard in town, he was known to throw his messages at people and fly away.

At least Hanzo had trained him out of the bad habit of stealing people’s food out of their hands.

McCree smiled and looked around. The meadow was in bloom and he could hear the calls of wild Pokemon as they moved around the grass and flowers. In the grassy lawn of the shelter, McCree’s Arcanine was splayed out on the ground, head lowered so that a Marill could place a flower crown on her head. Her plumed tail was beating wildly, making the pinap berry bush shake.

Hanzo’s startled burst of laughter startled the two of them. Arcanine’s head shot up, her eyes wide and guilty and the Marill squealed as it was tossed backwards, the flower crown disintegrating.

The Tauros snorted as he continued to pull the cart toward the storeroom. Hanzo shifted the bag of feed in his arms so that he could reach out and scratch behind Arcanine’s ears. Her plumed tail began shaking the berry bush again.

Seeing that Arcanine was getting attention, the Marill ran up to Hanzo, tugging at his shorts as it looked up at him. Realizing that Hanzo’s arms were full, it pouted before it looked at McCree.

“C’mere,” McCree offered and the little blue Pokemon trotted over with a happy warble. He lifted it and tossed it lightly in the air, making it squeal in glee. It wiggled in his arms when he caught it. “Again?” he asked and it squeaked again. He tossed it in the air and caught it again, then once more.

By then, the Marill’s cries had attracted attention. There were a few Magikarp watching from the water and a Sobble that Hanzo was rehabilitating for a breeder friend of Genji’s was curled up on the shore, watching them with its over-large eyes.

McCree propped his fists on his hips and grinned at them. He mimed rolling up his sleeves—even though they were already tucked well above his elbows—and made his way over to the lake. “Alright,” he said. “Make me a neat, orderly line now.”

When Hanzo came out of the storage shed, he found McCree knee-deep in the lake, swinging the Sobble in his left arm like a baby. He was wiggling the fingers of his right arm into the Sobble’s belly and it was giggling, kicking at the hand with all four of its legs and curling its tail around his wrist.

Seeing Hanzo staring, McCree froze guiltily. The Sobble warbled before seeing Hanzo as well. It squealed and wiggled out of McCree’s grip, leaping on the head of Hanzo’s Magikarp.

The Magikarp seemed to scowl at McCree as if blaming him for its new passenger but—as McCree had learned—it didn’t attack Hanzo’s patients and put up with the indignity of the Sobble clinging to its mangled crest.

“He liked being held like that,” McCree protested weakly as Hanzo continued to stare at him with an unreadable expression.

The moment, strange as it was and filled with a kind of electricity like a horde of stampeding Pichus, was broken when Tauros grunted, tossing his head impatiently. “Yes,” Hanzo said faintly, groping with a hand to pet the Pokemon’s big shoulder. “We should get back to work.”

“Need some help?” McCree asked, already beginning to wade out of the lake.

“No,” Hanzo said, another unreadable look on his face. “We can manage.”

McCree watched them leave, watched Tauros walk docilely beside Hanzo who stroked its shaggy hump, rested his hand behind the Pokemon’s short horns. “Huh,” he said and turned to find that the Pokemon in the lake were all looking hopefully at him again.

All except the shiny Magikarp who still seemed to be scowling. The Sobble on its crest reached plaintively for McCree and he curled a finger under its chin. “Let’s give someone else a turn for a moment,” he suggested. “I see a few people that would like to be tossed in the air?”

A Magikarp swam up to his knees and spun in small, tight circles. Obligingly, he lifted it—grunting with the effort—and gave it a light toss so that it dove back into the water. It surfaced again a moment later, clearly thrilled even though McCree was fairly certain that it could jump higher on its own.

“Who’s next?” he asked the gathered Pokemon.

* * *

“I think I over-did it,” McCree complained to Hanzo later that night. His arms were shaking and in lieu of crossing them on the table, he let them hang, flopping over so that his cheek was pressed against the wood.

At the stove, Hanzo chuckled. It was technically McCree’s turn but after taking one look at McCree lying on the shores of the lake when he and Tauros had finished loading the store room, he had magnanimously offered to take McCree’s turn to cook.

“Are you still okay to go into town tomorrow?” Hanzo asked, wiping his hands on the dish towel hanging from the oven.

McCree grunted. “Yeah,” he said. “I don’t need my arms to ride Rapidash.”

“You need your arms to deliver the Pokemon to their owners,” Hanzo pointed out with a laugh. He dug around in the drawers until he found a pen and paper.

Rolling his eyes though Hanzo couldn’t see, McCree said, “I said I’d do it and I will,” he sighed dramatically. “Even if it kills me.”

“Please,” Hanzo retorted. “A gassy Chewtel is hardly worth your death.”

McCree snorted. “Was _that_ what was wrong?”

“Wrong food,” Hanzo agreed absently as he wrote a quick note on the pad of paper. “So, it kept having gastrointestinal distress.” He folded the paper quickly and thrust open the kitchen windows to the late afternoon air. “Wingull!”

As if waiting for his summons, which it probably was, the wretched Wingull appeared in the window, bobbing its head at Hanzo.

“I’m letting them know that it’ll be delivered by ground courier,” Hanzo told McCree though he hadn’t asked. He used a small plastic capsule to secure the piece of paper. Then he helped the Wingull into its delivery harness, strapping the capsule between its wings.

McCree had seen Hanzo and Wingull do such things before but it was always interesting to watch. The Wingull could carry notes and even pokeballs that way. Most Pokemon trainers would have attached the note to the Wingull’s leg but Hanzo had told McCree once that the Wingull hated having anything on its feet so he avoided it.

Most trainers would also have sent an email or called, but Hanzo was old-fashioned that way. McCree could relate.

The Wingull pecked—lightly, the way it did only for Hanzo—at his hand and with a laugh, Hanzo pinched its beak shut. “ _Dame_ ,” he whispered. “Naughty thing.” It squawked when Hanzo released his hold on its beak. “Go on. That is for the Chewtel’s owners, do you remember them? They’re in town next to the florist’s house.”

The Wingull squawked something rude and hopped to the door. McCree watched as it took off and Hanzo leaned out of the window. “The grey building!”

McCree could hear the Wingull’s rude cries as Hanzo laughed and pulled himself back inside. “He’s chatty,” he commented. “I almost would have thought that he was a Corvisquire.”

Hanzo smirked. “Wingull is colorblind,” he explained. “All the buildings are grey.”

Startled, McCree laughed and then groaned when his sore muscles pulled. “Ow.”

“You poor thing,” Hanzo told him with false sympathy as he returned to the stove.

“I suffered for you,” McCree whined petulantly.

“You truly did.”

McCree grumbled. “Is this the thanks I get? For my sacrifice?”

Laughing, Hanzo put a full bowl of stew in front of McCree. As McCree contemplated the steam that still rose from the bowl, Hanzo quickly shaped rice mixed with herbs into balls and brought them to the table. That made McCree sit up, much more interested in the proceedings.

In his personal and probably very biased opinion, Hanzo made the best rice balls.

“Are you able to feed yourself?” Hanzo teased as he sat down to eat. “Or do you need me to feed you like a baby?”

McCree twisted his head to smirk at Hanzo. Slowly, groaning, he sat up. “Aren’t you forever calling me a baby?” he teased.

“No, I call you a _child_ ,” Hanzo sniffed but there was a smile on his lips that made McCree’s heart skip a beat.

Not knowing what to say, McCree laughed and reached for his spoon. He reflected, as they ate dinner, that somehow Hanzo seemed almost disappointed.

* * *

“Are you _sure_ you’ll be okay?” McCree asked as Hanzo walked beside Rapidash.

Hanzo rolled his eyes. Wingull, perched on Hanoz’s shoulder, squinted its beady little eye at McCree. “I’ll be fine, I assure you,” he said dryly. “I’ve managed on my own for the past six years.”

“Right.” McCree scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry.” They paused at the fork in the road. To the right, Hanzo would go to the shelter; to the left, McCree would take the main road into town.

Hanzo gave McCree one of his rare half-smiles that now made McCree’s heart skip a beat. “Do you have the pokeball?” he asked. His smile curled into a teasing smirk. “I’d hate for you to ride all the way there only to find that you weren’t able to make the delivery.”

“Haha, very funny,” McCree told him dryly. “That was _one time_.” All the same, he patted the pouch on the saddle behind him until he could feel the pokeball. “Right here.”

Rapidash turned her head and nudged her nose into Hanzo’s hand. Smiling, he scratched her chin. “I don’t know how you manage with him,” he told her.

“Hey!” McCree protested, though he was smiling. “Look at you, turning my own Pokemon against me! Betrayal!”

Hanzo laughed and patted McCree’s leg. “I’m sure you’ll get over it.” With a last wave, he turned down the path to go to the shelter.

For a moment, McCree watched him go. Arcanine would be with him, he told himself. And it was ridiculous for him to worry—as Hanzo had said, he had been on his own for years.

“C’mon, Rapidash,” McCree said, clicking his tongue. Snorting, she turned toward the main road and broke into a light trot. Once clear of the trees, she broke into a brisk canter.

Town wasn’t very far away, close enough for Rapidash to get a good workout but not enough to tire her out too much so he let her set her own pace. She was frisky, choosing to jump over obstacles rather than go around them, and McCree wondered if she was happy to be out or simply picking up on her rider’s good mood. It could feasibly be both.

He pulled her up in front of the address that Hanzo gave him and was pleasantly surprised to find that there was someone waiting outside for him. “You can rest your Rapidash here,” she said, gesturing toward a fenced area behind her. McCree could see a trough of water and a door that appeared to lead into some kind of storage room. “And if you would like, you can store her gear on the side as well.”

“Thank you,” McCree told her as he dismounted, puzzled. A delivery would hardly take so much time, but he did want to make sure that Rapidash was able to get some water before he headed back. He turned her loose in the little paddock and stored her gear in the storage room, slinging his packs over his shoulder.

The woman gestured for him to follow and led him inside. To his surprise, the building was a spa—a nice one, too. The kind that had jugs of flavored water and a small indoor waterfall in the waiting area. He was already very aware that he was covered in sweat from his ride over.

“You’ve brought our Chewtel back?” a man asked, coming out from the door to another room.

“Right here,” McCree said, digging out the pokeball from his bag. “And I have some paperwork from Hanzo.”

“Perfect timing!” the man said.

At the same time, the woman said, “Do you know what was wrong with him?” she accepted the pokeball and released the Pokemon in the lobby. “Hi, sweetie, I missed you.”

“He said something about the food,” McCree told her. Seeing that she was busy hugging the Chewtel, he handed the stack of envelopes to the man. “But he didn’t tell me all of it. I have that paperwork with me, so you can read it over and see what he recommends.”

“Now, payment,” the man said briskly. “If you’ll come this way, we can get started.”

McCree paused. Hanzo had mentioned that he would be collecting payment but had given no details as to exactly what. “Excuse me?”

The man blinked at him. Then he fished out a piece of paper from the pocket of his smock, which he handed to McCree. He realized that it was a piece of stationary—the same one that Hanzo had sent with Wingull the night before.

_I am sending Jesse McCree to deliver your Chewtel tomorrow_ , the note read in Hanzo’s neat handwriting. _Please apply the payment we agreed upon to a massage for him._

McCree made a face. “That sneaky son of a bitch.”

“I’m guessing he didn’t tell you?” the woman asked with a wry smile.

He shook his head though it wasn’t really a question. “I was telling him that my back and shoulders ache,” he admitted. “I was helping him at the shelter and over-did things. Then he got all sneaky. I’ll have to get back at him later.”

The workers at the spa laughed. “Let’s get started, then,” the man suggested.

Shaking his head again, McCree followed him.

* * *

When he left, he found that Rapidash had gotten a thorough grooming as well. Thanking the workers, he mounted up and let her set her own pace back.

“Who’d’a thought, huh?” he asked her as they walked leisurely back. “I need to find a good way to get back at him.” He stretched his hands over his head, sighing. “But damn they were good. I don’t think my back’s ever felt this good.”

He paused. “Wait. We need to go back to town.” Rapidash stopped and turned to look at him with one eye. “I know, but we’re not that far away. I know what to get the bastard.” She snorted but obligingly turned around, trotting back the way they had just came.

Luck was with him and the bakery was open. Though the prices of his purchase made him whistle, it wasn’t as if he couldn’t pay for it. As he loaded the parcels on Rapidash, he reflected at how his priorities had changed. He still battled, but he didn’t travel anymore—and if he battled, he didn’t mention it to Hanzo who likewise pretended not to know if he did.

Once he would have been too restless to stay and yet here he was, over a month into his stay, and content to remain at the shelter, at Hanzo’s small house in the forest. Dreams can change—and now McCree dreamed only of staying right where he was.

He shook his head and swung into the saddle. “Let’s take it slow,” he suggested to Rapidash. “We got precious cargo now.” She snorted and they began their trek to the shelter again.

They made a quick stop to Hanzo’s house, dropping off his surprise in the refrigerator, and taking off Rapidash’s gear. Bareback, McCree rode her to the shelter and turned her loose in the meadow.

Hanzo was in the lower portion of the shelter, cleaning up after a procedure. His patient was in one of the tanks, resting as it recovered. Hearing him come down, Hanzo turned around and smiled. “You’re back late,” he teased.

“Har-har,” McCree said, though is lips were curled in a smile as well. “You’re an ass and I’ll have my revenge.”

“I’m sure you will,” Hanzo replied, eyes half-lidded. “I look forward to it.”

McCree swallowed the lump in his throat and tried his best to not let Hanzo know exactly where his mind went. Instead, he turned toward the Pokemon in the tank. He didn’t recognize it, but he wasn’t surprised given his unfamiliarity with Water-types.

“He looks so out of it,” he laughed. “Poor thing.”

“I had to put him to sleep for it,” Hanzo admitted. “It takes them a while to recover, sometimes.” 

“Which Pokemon knows Yawn?” McCree asked. He doubted it was the Wingull or the Magikarp. He knew that Hanzo had other Pokemon, most of which were free-roaming. Then he paused. “Or did you drug them?”

Hanzo shook his head. “Drugs are unreliable and expensive,” he said. “Sing at least will always work and doesn’t run the risk of killing the Pokemon. I have a Jigglypuff.”

McCree blinked in surprise. “A Jigglypuff?” Somehow it hadn’t even occurred to him that Hanzo might have a Pokemon that wasn’t a Water-type. Then again, he had his Tauros among a team of Fire-types. Why _couldn’t_ Hanzo have another type?

Nodding, Hanzo reached for the pokeball on his belt and enlarged and opened it in a single smooth motion that made McCree jealous. The Jigglypuff appeared in a flare of red light on the exam table. McCree was beginning to sense a theme in all of Hanzo’s Pokemon, as instead of the cheerful expression that McCree was used to seeing on Jigglypuff, it was scowling.

Despite the scowl, it was less scarred than Hanzo’s Wingull and Magikarp. He was tickled to see that it wore a sun hat with a blue ribbon, the ends trailing down behind it.

“Oh, _hello_ ,” McCree said, leaning close to greet the Pokemon. Its scowl didn’t let up and, much like Hanzo’s other Pokemon, it squinted suspiciously at him.

Hanzo returned to cleaning. “I keep him with me,” he explained. “He’s suspicious by nature and upbringing and not the friendliest Pokemon with people or other Pokemon.”

“I can see that,” McCree snorted as the Pokemon continued to squint up at him. He held out a hand. “Hi. I’m McCree.”

The Jigglypuff reached behind it into whatever otherworldly pocket that such Pokemon seemed to possess. Hanzo yanked McCree’s hand back as the Jigglypuff brandished a handle that split to reveal a sharp knife.

He watched, amazed and horrified, as it flipped the knife and its split handles with a dexterity that he wouldn’t have expected from the Jigglypuff.

“You’re getting good at that,” Hanzo told the Jigglypuff as if it hadn’t just pulled a knife on McCree. “This is McCree. He’s a friend.” From the way the Pokemon’s eyes narrowed at McCree, it was clear that he didn’t consider McCree _his_ friend.

Shaking his head, McCree laughed. “Goddamn, darlin’,” he said to Hanzo, keeping his eyes on the Jigglypuff. “You have the most interesting Pokemon.”

“Put that away,” Hanzo told the Jigglypuff who, to McCree’s surprise, obeyed. “Do you want to go back in your pokeball?” the Pokemon grunted, which seemed to be a “yes”, and Hanzo recalled him, putting the ball back on his belt.

“Why does he have a knife?” McCree asked when it was safe to breathe again.

Hanzo chuckled. “He stole it from Genji. It’s a butterfly knife,” he added before McCree could ask. “You can ask him all about it at dinner—Genji said that he was going to stop by today to pick up the Sobble.”

They could hear a splash, muffled by the glass and water; both of them looked toward the lake and saw a Shedinja drift by.

“I guess I can ask him now,” McCree said dryly. “Want me to clean up here or take care of your brother?”

An unreadable look crossed Hanzo’s face but disappeared before McCree could put a name to it. Hanzo released his wrist and only then did McCree realize that he was still holding it; the skin there felt colder now that Hanzo’s hand was gone and he tried not to be hurt by it.

He tried not to think too much about it.

“I had better clean up here,” Hanzo said reluctantly.

“Okay,” McCree agreed. “I’ll…go talk to him.”

He climbed up the steep ladder and tried not to wonder if Hanzo watched him leave. It was only wishful thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it? Hate it? Let me know! I love hearing your thoughts on the chapter or the story in general. 
> 
> The Jigglypuff with a knife was all [IchigoWhiskey's](https://twitter.com/ichigowhiskey) fault and I love her for the stroke of genius. 
> 
> Art by me. I think I was crying quietly to myself as I did it because I'm very out of practice. 
> 
> Feel free to come and find me on Twitter at [Dracoduceus](https://twitter.com/dracoduceus). I can't promise that I'll post anything interesting. 
> 
> ~DC


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be safe I increased the rating. ;) 
> 
> No explicit sex ~~yet??~~ though.

Genji was trying to get Arcanine to play fetch when McCree emerged from the shelter. “You’re still here?” Genji asked with a laugh. “I would have thought that you’d be long gone.”

“Yeah,” McCree with a shrug. There was no good way to answer that; not with Genji. If Angela had asked, then perhaps he would have said something. She was good at hearing out his problems without (much) judgment.

She probably wouldn’t judge him for maybe falling a little bit in love with Hanzo.

“You’re here for the Sobble?” he asked.

Genji’s lips were twisted in a mean smirk. “Don’t try to change the subject,” he teased.

Shaking his head, McCree walked toward the lake. He found the Sobble quickly and scooped it up. It warbled in alarm before relaxing, curling its tail around his wrist. Smiling, he tickled its belly and it giggled.

“Are you ready to go home, baby?” he cooed. The Sobble giggled, grabbing at McCree’s hand with its paws. He stepped out of the way as Marill dragged Genji’s Shedinja out of the water. “Thank you, Marill.”

The Marill warbled, eyed Genji distrustfully, and disappeared back into the lake.

Turning back to his friend, McCree found Genji frowning thoughtfully at him. “You like it here,” he said. It sounded accusing.

“What’s not to like?” McCree said stiffly. “It’s a nice area. And it’s good work.”

“That’s not _all_ you like,” Genji murmured with a knowing smirk. McCree ignored him, continuing to play with the Sobble. To his surprise, Genji seemed to drop the subject and asked, “How’s your Magikarp?”

McCree narrowed his eyes suspiciously at him. He whistled and turned to the water to watch the reason he had come to the shelter swim up to the shallows. It was followed by Hanzo’s Magikarp.

Seeing it, McCree was reminded of another question. “Hey, Hanzo says that he has a Jigglypuff.”

Immediately, the good-natured smirk fell from Genji’s face. He looked almost scared. “Is it nearby?” he asked, looking around. The Shedinja scuttled along the lake shore and scrambled up to Genji’s shoulders.

“No,” McCree said slowly. “He put it back. Why?”

Genji shuddered and it didn’t look like it was all for show. “That thing’s _mean_. Not like Magikarp or his stupid Wingull. I think it’s actually evil.”

“No Pokemon is _actually_ evil,” McCree told him, rolling his eyes.

Genji shook his head. “No,” he said, voice low and more serious than McCree had ever heard from him. “I think it’s actually evil. As evil as any creature can be.”

“Is it because he stole your knife?” McCree asked.

The Shedinja clicked its mandibles nervously and wiggled until Genji pulled it off his shoulders to hold in front of him, his arms wrapped around it. “ _It stabbed me_.” McCree blinked in surprise and Genji shook his head pityingly at him. “Okay. You know how Jigglypuff always hate when people fall asleep when they Sing?” McCree nodded. “Most of the time they just draw on faces—and Hanzo’s Jigglypuff _used to_ do that.”

“I doubt Hanzo trained him to _stab_ people instead,” McCree protested.

Genji shook his head. “I don’t know _who_ trained it, but that thing is _evil_.” He laughed suddenly. “It’s _yakuza_.”

“Yakuza?” McCree echoed disbelievingly. “A _Jigglypuff?_ ”

“You’d be surprised how useful they can be,” Hanzo said, coming out of the shelter. “So long as you have adequate ear protection, you can move around without witnesses. The problem is that you leave a trail—it’s a crutch for those that are not as good as they think they are.”

Genji made a face. “I can’t believe that you still have an ex-yakuza Jigglypuff.”

“I can hardly release him into the wild,” Hanzo said tightly. “It would not be fair to him.”

“Or the hikers he’d encounter!”

Hanzo ignored Genji. “And I doubt anyone would want him or treat him well. He’d probably be put down—you _know_ I’m right.”

Genji shook his head. It seemed to be an old argument, so McCree interrupted and said, “Are you staying for dinner?”

“I _was_ going to spend the night and move on in the morning,” Genji admitted. “But I guess I better find a hotel or something.”

Hanzo looked pained. “Nonsense,” McCree said though it hurt him to say. “You can have your room back.” In his arms, Sobble made a sad noise and McCree distracted himself by tickling its belly again.

“We can talk about it later,” Hanzo said firmly.

“It doesn’t have to be now,” Genji told them glibly. “I’m going to visit Ana and Reinhardt and then I’ll be back. And I may as well take the Sobble now.”

Realizing that its time was up, the Sobble immediately stopped giggling. It looked up at McCree with its large, watery eyes.

“Yeah,” he told it gently. “It’s time for you to go home, bud.” He righted it in his arms and the Sobble tightened its grip on his wrist. “Aw, it’s okay sweet. I’m sure you miss your trainer something fierce, huh? You’ll get to see them again.”

The Sobble made a sad sound and wrapped its short arms around McCree’s neck, burying its face in his chest.

“I’ll miss you too,” McCree told it gently, rubbing his hand over its back. “But it’s time to go home. Come on, let me go, sweet.”

Both brothers were watching him with unreadable expressions. He ignored them in favor of smiling down at the Sobble’s teary eyes.

“Oh, don’t cry, sweetie,” McCree murmured, digging out a handkerchief and offering it to the Sobble. “It’ll be okay.” When the Sobble mopped up its tears, McCree tucked the handkerchief back into his pocket and pressed a kiss between its large eyes. The Sobble didn’t look convinced when he pulled back and he smiled. It sniffed as he reached up into his hat and removed one of the golden bullets in the strap.

The Sobble gripped the offered bullet tightly, sniffing back tears. It made a sad warble and McCree cupped its cheek in one hand.

“It’ll be okay,” he repeated, bouncing it on his hip. “You’ll see.” He held out his free hand and Hanzo quietly put the Sobble’s pokeball in his palm. “You ready?” The Sobble sniffed and used one of its hands to wipe its eyes. Then it nodded and McCree recalled it into the pokeball.

Genji took the pokeball from McCree, gave him a jaunty two-fingered salute, and Flew away. McCree shook his head as he watched him leave.

“I’m glad you were here for that,” Hanzo said quietly and McCree turned to look at him in surprise. “I don’t think I could have soothed him as easily as you did.”

McCree blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Shoot,” he said. “I just tried my best. I’m sure it’ll forget all about me as soon as it sees its trainer.”

For a long moment, Hanzo looked at him with an unreadable expression. “I don’t think so,” he said at last. “I think that Sobble will always look at that bullet and think of you; I doubt it’ll throw away that trinket anytime soon. You’re not as forgettable as you think you are.”

Pulling down the brim of his hat to hide his blush, McCree looked away. “Shoot,” he said. “You’re gonna make me blush.”

Hanzo smiled and looked away. “I suppose we better get ready for Genji to come back.”

Reminded, McCree’s grin faded. “Yeah,” he agreed awkwardly. “Look, I can…Genji can take his room back. I’ve…imposed more than enough on your hospitality.”

“If you want to leave, you can,” Hanzo said very quietly. There was something strange in his voice that made McCree look back at him. “I…enjoy your company. But I will not stop you if you want to move on. I understand that you’ve been in one place for a long time, something you’re not used to as a wandering trainer. If you want to move on, you are welcome to but…if you would like to stay, we can find another place for you to sleep.”

McCree smiled, relieved. “I’d…love that,” he said, hoping that he didn’t sound too pathetically eager. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“We can talk ourselves in circles for hours,” Hanzo said dryly. His cheeks were red. “I’d like you to stay if you are willing. Are you?”

McCree smiled. “Darlin’,” he said and Hanzo’s cheeks darkened. “I’d love to.”

* * *

They moved McCree’s stuff out of Genji’s room and into Hanzo’s for the time being. Once Genji left the next day, McCree would go back.

For now, McCree looked around the one part of the house that he hadn’t ventured. He wasn’t too surprised to see that there was a small trapdoor in one of the walls that would allow Hanzo’s mean Magikarp to swim into a small pond set in the floor. There was a perch with a nest for the Wingull and a small blanket-lined basket that McCree assumed was for his Jigglypuff.

Otherwise the room wasn’t decorated. No pictures hung on his plain wooden walls and only a large glass jar of colorful shells sat on one of his shelves; everything else was filled with books of all shapes and sizes, notebooks, and loose papers. It reminded him of the labs he’d seen of professors studying Pokemon.

Somehow he was both surprised and not to find such things: Hanzo clearly earned his remarkable knowledge of Pokemon through hard work.

The bed was just as plain as the rest of the room. It wasn’t decorated with a colorful quilt the way that Genji’s was, having instead a very simple blue comforter and equally simple blue pillows. There was a patched plush toy of an Octillery on the bed, its tentacles curled up toward its face as if in surprise.

McCree was glad that Hanzo wasn’t in the room with him because seeing the bed made him swallow thickly. It would be fine—they were both adults and could act like it. Still, the thought of it and what it would represent…it made a thrill go down his spine.

He carefully put his bags down out of the way of the pond and the Wingull’s nest and walked back out into the main area of the small house. Before he left, he paused in the door and tried to will himself to calm down. It was just sharing a bed.

It didn’t mean anything.

* * *

Dinner passed quickly but also felt as if it lasted forever.

Whoever Ana and Reinhardt were, had sent Genji back with food for them all to share, though by the time that Genji returned he had eaten half of the sweet rolls that had been included. Combined with the food that Hanzo had already prepared, they had a feast that made McCree feel as round as a Spheal.

He pulled out the surprise he had bought in town and revealed it to Hanzo with a flourish: a cream and berry cake that said in neat calligraphy, _I hate you_. The “o” was a heart. It had taken the cake artist two tries to get it perfect, she was laughing too hard.

For Hanzo’s terrible Pokemon, McCree had gotten treats from the same bakery—he was glad that he had bought extra, not having known about the Jigglypuff.

As the brothers cleaned up, waving off his offer to help, he instead went outside to do the last of the evening’s chores. Rapidash and Tauros were happy to be in the meadow so he left them there after giving them their treats; Arcanine had a little shelter that Hanzo typically used for firewood. Come winter, McCree wasn’t sure what Arcanine (or Hanzo) would do, but that was a problem for later. His Talonflame had made a little nest in a nearby tree and flew down to receive her treat and solicit pets. He made sure the outdoor feeders for the recovering Pokemon were full and checked in on the Pokemon in their tanks to make sure that they were settled and content.

When he was leaving, he found Hanzo’s Jigglypuff standing in the path between his house and the shelter. He squinted at McCree with an unreadable expression, his round face dour.

“Hey,” McCree told it cautiously and reached into the box of treats in his hand.

He hadn’t been able to offer Jigglypuff one, as Hanzo hadn’t released him during dinner. Something about Genji being terrified of him and the Shedinja not being intelligent enough to leave him alone made it seem wise to keep him in his pokeball. It seemed that Hanzo had released him at some point so that he could walk around.

Then again, McCree had lived in Hanzo’s house for over a month and this was only the second time he’d seen the Pokemon. Perhaps he didn’t often walk around. McCree remembered that Hanzo did say that he didn’t often come out, wasn’t comfortable with people or Pokemon. The thought made his heart ache.

“Would you like one?”

The Jigglypuff inspected the treat critically, his sour expression not changing. Then he somberly accepted the treat. He grunted—which McCree chose to translate as a thank-you—and McCree tipped his hat at him.

“Shall we walk back to the house?” he asked. The Jigglypuff grunted and began walking back. McCree slowed his pace to allow the Jigglypuff to walk beside him, munching on his treat. “Would you like me to carry you so you can comfortably eat?” he asked hesitantly. “Or would that be beneath your dignity?”

He stopped when the Jigglypuff did and waited through his scowl up at him. Then his nodded his head once and McCree very carefully picked him up, setting him on his hip. It took some adjusting to make sure that the Jigglypuff’s hat didn’t fall off, but the Jigglypuff seemed satisfied and most importantly, he didn’t stab McCree.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked the Pokemon and he nodded. They walked back together, the Jigglypuff balanced on McCree’s hip so that he could use the other hand to hold the box of treats.

They found Hanzo outside on the porch, watching them walk up with a strange look on his face. McCree waved as he opened the gate and latched it behind them.

“I’m surprised you let yourself be picked up,” Hanzo told the Jigglypuff. The Jigglypuff shook his head when he moved to take him from McCree. “Then again,” Hanzo mused, brows rising in surprise. “I’m not surprised—you seem to have a way with Pokemon, Mr. McCree.”

McCree smiled crookedly. “I doubt that,” he said. To the Jigglypuff, he said, “Would you like to sit outside while you finish that? We can sit on the swing.” The Jigglypuff nodded and with a wink at Hanzo, who continued to watch him with that strange expression, McCree moved to the porch swing and very carefully set the Jigglypuff down before sitting on the bench next to him.

The Jigglypuff grunted and as McCree set down the box of treats and sat back, crawled to sit in his lap.

He watched the Pokemon eat his treat slowly, as if savoring it and made a mental note to buy more. Rethinking his earlier assessment of the Pokemon—and Genji’s insistence that he must be evil—McCree wondered if he was just lonely or afraid. He didn’t say any of this out loud and instead rocked them slowly on the swing while the Pokemon ate.

Hanzo came to sit beside them and Jigglypuff chirred at him. He fully expected the Jigglypuff to climb into Hanzo’s lap but to his surprise he stayed there, eating his treat with both hands.

They could hear the sounds of the forest as the sun set and McCree smiled, rocking their swing gently. Beside him, Hanzo’s shoulder and thigh brushed against his, making heat burn in his chest.

After a while he realized that the Jigglypuff had finished his treat and was sitting docilely in his lap, also watching the evening scenery. “Hey,” McCree said quietly and the Jigglypuff turned to look up at him. “Will you show me your knife? I hear you’re really good with it.”

The Jigglypuff seemed honestly surprised and for a moment his dour look lifted. Then he pulled out the butterfly knife and offered it to McCree. Aware that Hanzo had gone very still beside him, McCree took the knife and looked it over.

It was large for a Jigglypuff to have, but as McCree had seen earlier, that was no issue. There was a little latch that held both sides together; when McCree thumbed it open, the handles split to reveal the knife inside.

He carefully opened it and looked at the blade. It was well tended, the joints cleaned and oiled so that it moved smoothly. The blade, unsurprisingly, was sharp and straight, showing signs of meticulous care. Very carefully he folded it again, latched it, and offered it back to the Jigglypuff.

“A beautiful knife,” he said and the Jigglypuff grunted, accepting the knife back. “Will you show me how you opened it earlier?”

The Jigglypuff wiggled out of his hold and jumped down. For a moment McCree thought that he was walking away but it seemed that he only wanted space. In a motion that seemed too fast to track, the Jigglypuff flipped it open, the knife spinning in its small hand.

“Hot damn,” McCree murmured. Now that he had a moment to process a Jigglypuff owning a knife (and supposedly stabbing Genji with it), he could better appreciate the smooth movements of the knife as it spun. “That’s amazing.”

The Jigglypuff blinked up at him. He spun the knife again and when it stopped, the knife was closed.

“You’re very good at that,” McCree told him. “Can you show me another?”

He lost track of how long he watched the Jigglypuff play with his knife. It spun like a silver blur over his small hands and McCree wondered what he could do with a knife more suited for his hands. In this he had the size advantage of the blade, and he was certain that the Jigglypuff was fond of his knife for sentimental value, but he also seemed to take pride in the spins and twists and flips he could do with the blade.

At last, the Jigglypuff seemed to run out of tricks and stopped, looking awkwardly at McCree. He carefully held out his hands and the Jigglypuff walked into them, allowing him to pick him up again and set him in his lap.

“That is amazing,” he told the Jigglypuff, who looked up at him with his large eyes. Some of his dour expression had lightened and McCree smiled down at him. “Will you teach me, sometime?”

The Jigglypuff hid his face behind his hands and McCree dropped the subject, beginning to rock their swing very gently once more. As the last orange lights faded from the distant sky, McCree realized that the rocking had put the Jigglypuff to sleep.

“Thank you,” Hanzo said very quietly. “That was very kind of you.”

McCree smiled at Hanzo. “Once I got over the surprise of Jigglypuff pulling a knife out, it was amazing,” he said with a quiet laugh. “He’s very good with that, isn’t he?”

“I think it’s a nervous tic,” Hanzo murmured. “He always liked playing with toys so it only seemed natural that he’d take to the butterfly knife.”

There was a story there—many stories there—but McCree didn’t ask and leaned against Hanzo’s shoulder. He smiled when the other man didn’t pull away, seemed to lean back into McCree.

“He likes you,” Hanzo murmured. “But then, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You have a way with Pokemon, don’t you?”

McCree ducked his head in a blush. “You’re gonna make me blush, darlin’,” he said. “I just try to do right by them.”

“That’s more than many would do,” Hanzo pointed out. “You treat them like they’re people while others treat them like…like beasts or pets. Objects; tools.”

Surprised, McCree looked at Hanzo. He kept them swinging gently, not wanting to wake the Jigglypuff. “They’re people in their own way,” he said quietly. “They have thoughts and feelings; they’re intelligent. Of course I’d treat them that way. How else would I?” he paused and took a deep breath. “But you do too, don’t you? You love Pokemon just as they are—mean and scarred and ugly as shit. All Pokemon are beautiful to you, aren’t they?”

Whatever Hanzo was about to say was interrupted when Genji slammed open one of the windows on the front of the house. The sound startled the Jigglypuff and he drew his knife, spinning the blade into place and cutting into McCree’s flannel.

Seeing the damage he did, he put away his blade—carefully, without his favored flourishes—and reached for Hanzo. McCree transferred the Jigglypuff to Hanzo who murmured to him—McCree politely didn’t listen—and returned him to his pokeball.

Oblivious, Genji opened another window and poked his head out. “Oh,” he said with a smirk. “Don’t worry, I’ll leave you two alone.” His brows rose up and down suggestively as he pulled himself back inside, closing the window behind him.

“Sometimes I really hate him,” McCree told Hanzo conversationally.

“Try growing up with him,” Hanzo replied dryly. “A part of me thinks that if someone asked me to kill him, I would have gladly.”

McCree chuckled. The night chill was beginning to set in and he stood up, holding out a hand to help Hanzo to his feet. Together they walked inside, their shoulders and elbows brushing until they got to the door. Whatever moment had been brewing in those moments on the swing was thoroughly shattered and McCree tried not to be too disappointed.

* * *

It seemed that Hanzo, strangely enough, was just as nervous as McCree was. He puttered around the house, cleaning and straightening everything in an effort to—or so it seemed to McCree—put off going to sleep.

Despite the massage, McCree still felt wound up. He knew that it was the anticipation, despite not expecting anything to happen. It was just a night.

Just for one night.

At last there was nothing else for either of them to do. Genji had long since gone to sleep—or was at least in his room—so there was nobody to watch the two of them walk into Hanzo’s bedroom.

They changed quickly, facing opposite sides of the room, and awkwardly bumped into each other as they brushed their teeth. Hanzo ducked out into the hall and McCree took a deep, steadying breath. Why was this so hard?

While Hanzo was out of the room, McCree sent a quick message on his comm and then climbed into the side of the bed that wasn’t near Magikarp’s pond and Wingull’s nest. When Hanzo returned with a bundle of extra blankets, he almost seemed surprised to see McCree in bed.

Without a word, Hanzo set the bundle down, opened the trap door and the window to let his Pokemon into the room, and released the Jigglypuff to sleep in the blanket-lined basket. Then, after making sure his Pokemon were settled and the window and trap door were closed, he climbed in bed as well. There wasn’t really enough room for both of them—even lying at the edge of the bed, McCree could still feel the brush of Hanzo’s shoulders.

“Goodnight,” Hanzo said quietly, amidst the gentle rustling of the Wingull settling in his perch and the gentle splashes of the Magikarp swimming around in his pond. The Pokemon chirped or gurgled and McCree smiled into the darkness.

Just as he was about to fall asleep, McCree opened his eyes wide in the darkness, suddenly wide awake. His heart was thundering and he felt cold all over with the rush of adrenaline. Hanzo had gone to get blankets because he wasn’t expecting McCree to join him in bed.

Thinking back, he realized that Hanzo hadn’t said that McCree could sleep in his bed; there had been no discussion as to where exactly that McCree would be sleeping. That was why Hanzo seemed surprised.

But he hadn’t said anything, had still climbed into bed with McCree who wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Fuck,” he mouthed into the darkness. Beside him, Hanzo gave a quiet little snore.

It took another hour for him to fall asleep, too wound up with the realization that Hanzo did not invite him there but had climbed into bed with him all the same; too busy agonizing over why he may have done so.

* * *

McCree woke up warm.

Humid breath beat down on his neck.

There was an arm around his waist and something poking into his lower back.

Suddenly he was awake, his eyes wide in the pre-dawn light that peeked through the curtains in Hanzo’s room. In his sleep, Hanzo had drifted closer to McCree, was spooning against him.

And his morning wood was digging furrows in his back as Hanzo’s hips sleepily rocked.

He should stop this; he should wake Hanzo up, tell him what he had been doing in his sleep. But McCree was paralyzed, heat pooling in his belly. It left him with very little blood left in his brain to think of anything other than _I can feel every piercing in Hanzo’s dick like this_.

Hanzo’s breath puffed against the back of his neck; his hips stuttered. McCree licked his dry lips. Hanzo must be close.

A part of him wanted to feel it, wanted to feel that molten heat spread along his back; wanted to pull down his boxers and Hanzo’s too, wanted to feed that wonderful heat between his thighs.

He could hear Hanzo’s breath hitch and then felt his entire body jolt. “Shit,” Hanzo said clearly. When he moved to pull away, McCree gripped his arm, held it in place over his waist. Hanzo’s entire body jolted again and he froze. “How long were you awake?” His breath puffed against the hairs on the back of McCree’s neck, making him shiver.

“Not long,” McCree whispered back. He licked his lips, the heat in his belly making him ask, “You’re close?”

Hanzo made a choked sound. “Please excuse me,” he said, tugging at the arm that McCree still held.

Still holding Hanzo’s arm, McCree turned to look at the other man. His eyes were dark, nearly swallowed by his pupils. There was a flush on his cheeks and his lips looked as if he had been biting them.

He swallowed. “You don’t need to stop.”

Hanzo’s breath hitched again. He suddenly leaned close, his eyes wide and crazed. His breath was stale with sleep but McCree ignored it. “Don’t I?” he asked, voice intense.

McCree jumped when he felt the touch of Hanzo’s hand. It didn’t try to pull away but now took a palmful of McCree’s shirt and clenched. McCree let him move his arm, let him tug his sleep shirt up to reveal a strip of tan skin and the coarse hair of his treasure trail.

“Tell me to stop,” Hanzo begged in a whisper, leaning over McCree. His breath was hot in McCree’s ear and one of Hanzo’s legs shifted, his knee resting between his thighs.

McCree hissed, one arm grabbing Hanzo’s thigh, the other his shoulder. He tipped his head back, baring his throat to Hanzo. “Don’t you dare.”

His groan was punched out of him when Hanzo nipped at his bared throat. Then Hanzo pulled away and nipped at the edge of his jaw before settling over McCree’s mouth. Their breaths were stale with sleep but the thundering in their ears kept them from caring too much.

Hanzo’s hands found their way under McCree’s shirt and he ripped it over his head. 

Immediately Hanzo’s hands were on his chest, pressing bruises into the skin and McCree couldn’t find it in him to be too upset, not when Hanzo sealed his mouth over McCree’s again. 

McCree groaned when Hanzo’s fingers found his nipples, breaking their kiss to arch his back. They’d always been sensitive but feeling Hanzo’s fingers on them—rough and calloused with his work in and around the water—sent a jolt like a bolt of lightning down his spine. 

“Sensitive?” Hanzo gasped against McCree’s slack lips. 

“Fuck,” McCree hissed when Hanzo pinched. 

He could feel Hanzo’s lips curl in a satisfied smirk. “I’d like to.” 

The thought was nearly enough for McCree to come right there and he clenched his thighs around the leg that Hanzo was using to brace himself. He bucked his hips, groaning low at the delicious friction. 

Hanzo shifted his weight, brought his thigh closer. It was amazing how a few touches, a few kisses, could drive McCree so wild. He tugged on Hanzo’s loose sleep pants. “Off,” he hissed. “Take them off.”

When Hanzo shifted back, McCree grabbed his collar and tried to yank it over his head, only succeeded in choking him. Laughing, Hanzo swatted his hands away and hauled his shirt over his head by the yoke of his shirt. 

McCree had seen Hanzo shirtless plenty of times—it came with the territory of working on the water with him so often but it was different now. He could look and take in the planes of his chest and belly, the fine scars splitting his skin, the dark hairs sprinkled over his skin. He could follow his gaze with his hands, could listen to the way Hanzo’s breath hitched—could feel the way his stomach jumped beneath his touch. 

He dug his fingers into Hanzo’s waist, pressing his thumbs into the thick muscles above his hips. “ _Damn_ ,” McCree hissed as Hanzo smirked down at him, the prideful bastard. He knew exactly how good he looked and what he was doing to McCree. 

Meeting Hanzo’s eyes, MCCree let his hands fall, sliding down the front of his pants. Hanzo dressed to the left and McCree had been correct; like this, he could feel every single piercing in Hanzo’s dick. 

Hanzo’s eyes fluttered, his mouth falling open; McCree could feel his dick twitch beneath his hand. Smirking, McCree squeezed harder, pressed his thumb into the bumps of piercings. 

Balling up his shirt, Hanzo tossed it to the side...where it landed with a splash. Above him, Hanzo froze, a look of dawning horror on his face. Very slowly he turned his head and McCree remembered as well—Hanzo’s Pokemon.

All three were awake, watching the two of them with wide eyes.

McCree cleared his throat awkwardly; Hanzo’s face was bright red and he was tickled to see that his neck and chest were flushed as well. “Perhaps…another time,” McCree suggested.

“Yes,” Hanzo croaked. From the way that Hanzo reacted, McCree wasn’t sure that he’d get another chance. He sighed, trying not to be frustrated.

Cock-blocked by Pokemon.

He let his head fall back on the pillows and tried not to laugh.

Hanzo climbed off of him and he missed the warmth of his body. He watched Hanzo go to speak quietly with his Magikarp and Wingull. Looking at the Jigglypuff, he found that the Pokemon was watching him. Seeing him looking, Jigglypuff extended his short arms and McCree smiled, climbing out of bed to gently lift him out of his basket.

The Jigglypuff peered up at him for a long, unnerving moment before pointing at the bed.

“You want to join us?” McCree teased as he obeyed the order. “Be our chaperone?” He climbed into bed and set the Jigglypuff down next to him.

The Jigglypuff grunted and pawed at McCree’s arm, tapping it into place; then he tucked his round body into the space between McCree’s elbow and his ribs. With his other hand, he gently pet the top of the Jigglypuff’s head, running his fingers gently over his curled crest. The Jigglypuff grunted but didn’t sound displeased, closing his large eyes as if already going back to sleep.

“It seems that we have a chaperone,” McCree told Hanzo who gave him a weak smile.

“Perhaps it’s just as well,” Hanzo said as he climbed back into bed.

With a rude sound, the Wingull flew from his perch and settled in the space between their shoulders. He glared at McCree with his one good eye. When McCree reached out a hand to offer an apology pet, the Wingull pecked him.

“I deserved that,” McCree told Hanzo when he looked at the Wingull with a disapproving frown. The Wingull clicked his scarred beak smugly and preened his chest feathers. He winked at Hanzo despite the barrier of overprotective Pokemon. “May as well get a bit more shut-eye, hm?”

Hanzo’s cheeks were still pink. Very carefully, he reached out and touched the hand that was wrapped around the Jigglypuff and McCree smiled, twisting his hand to tangle their fingers together. Hanzo’s blush darkened but he gave McCree a shy smile nonetheless.

The Wingull twisted his head to look at their hands and then turned back to squint at McCree accusingly.

“I know,” he told the Pokemon dryly. “Hand-holding. The kinkiest thing we could possibly do. Let us have our fun, Mr. Chaperone.”

The Wingull clicked is beak and pecked McCree’s nose though compared to the peck he gave McCree’s hand, it was gentle. McCree wrinkled his nose at the Wingull. The Pokemon settled down and turned to bury his head under his wing.

“I’m sorry,” Hanzo whispered quietly.

“It’s okay,” McCree murmured, giving Hanzo’s hand a light squeeze. He winked at Hanzo. “We can try again later,” he added, teasing for the sake of the Pokemon.

Jigglypuff shifted and he felt the handle of his knife tap his ribs. He looked down at the sleepy Pokemon and winked. “Oh, you’re awake?”

The Jigglypuff grunted, tapped McCree’s ribs again—a clear warning—before settling back down to sleep. The Wingull snorted but didn’t open his eyes.

“It’s a shame that your Magikarp can’t join us in bed,” McCree told Hanzo sleepily. “We could make it a party.” On the other side of the bed where McCree couldn’t see, he heard the Magikarp gurgle. “I think he’d try to drown me, though.”

Hanzo gave him a sleepy smile, his eyes already half-closed as he drifted off to sleep. “Probably,” he agreed. “But I hope not. I’d miss you.”

McCree smiled hard enough that his face hurt and he drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it? Hate it? Please let me know! I love to hear your feedback!
> 
> You can also find me on twitter at [Dracoduceus](https://twitter.com/dracoduceus). 
> 
> ~DC


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot what day it was so I forgot to post this last night after midnight. 
> 
> Oops. 
> 
> In any case, watch out because the rating will go up a little in the next chapter ;)

McCree volunteered to feed the Pokemon while Hanzo and Genji made breakfast, and ducked out to Talonflame. “I have a special mission for you,” he murmured to her and she clicked her beak at him, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I need you to Fly to Brigitte—do you remember where her workshop is?” He offered her a sealed message tube. “Stay there until she sends you back.”

Talonflame chirred, nudging her head against McCree’s hip and he knelt to wrap his arms around her. “I know,” he murmured. “I’m not sending you away because I don’t want you here.” Of all his Pokemon, Talonflame was the most antsy. She wanted action—but this wasn’t what she wanted. “This is…important to me. And you’re faster than Rapidash. With luck, you’ll be back quickly.”

She turned and preened his hair, clicking her beak in annoyance when she hit her head on his hat. He leaned close and whispered what he was asking of Brigitte and she leaned back to look at McCree in surprise.

Then she shook her head, accepted her message tube, and spread her wings. He moved out of the way, giving her space to take off.

He watched her go and moved to greet his Arcanine who had come to find him. “Good morning, sunshine,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the Arcanine’s prickly muzzle. Her plumed tail wagged. “Would you like to help me with the chores?”

As he was returning from the shelter, McCree once more found Hanzo’s Jigglypuff in the middle of the path. He stopped, eyes wide and suspicious as he saw the Arcanine with him.

“It’s okay,” he assured the Jigglypuff. “She’s a good girl, aren’t you?” Arcanine’s tail began to wag. “Lie down, you giant.”

Panting happily, Arcanine obeyed, used to such things. Hers was a happy nature and her first instinct was to make friends with anything that moved. McCree eventually had to teach her to lie down and sit still or all of the smaller Pokemon she’d try to make friends with would be terrified of the enormous Arcanine charging at them.

McCree scratched behind Arcanine’s ears and walked toward the Jigglypuff. He knelt in front of the Jigglypuff where he could still see the Arcanine. “This is my friend. Would you like to meet her? I promise she’s very nice.”

The Arcanine’s tail was wagging crazily but she lay sprawled out on the ground as McCree had told her to. Even still, her head was at least twice Jigglypuff’s size.

“Please don’t stab her,” McCree teased the Jigglypuff who squinted up at him. “I’m sure you could beat her without even using Sing, right Arcanine?” his Pokemon rolled on her back and let her tongue loll out, doing a rather cartoonish impression of playing dead. “See?” McCree asked the Jigglypuff. “Look at her. She’s died just looking at you.”

The Jigglypuff made a sound that could be a laugh and held out a small paw to McCree. McCree gravely grasped it between his first two fingers and his thumb and knee-walked along the ground beside him toward Arcanine. “Roll back around, you big lug.”

The Arcanine obeyed and rested her big head on the ground, her tail wagging crazily. McCree reached out with his free hand and ran his knuckles over Arcanine’s muzzle. Arcanine held very still, her eyes on Jigglypuff.

“You can pet her right here,” McCree suggested. “Or, you can boop the snoot.” Jigglypuff looked up at him, squinting suspiciously once more. “Watch.” He tapped Arcanine’s nose with a finger. “Boop!”

The Jigglypuff reached out and tapped Arcanine’s nose. He looked up at McCree.

“Boop,” McCree said. “Do you want to boop it again? Or would you like to pet her? She likes to have her ears scratched.” Arcanine’s ears pricked forward. Her tail began thumping harder.

He helped Jigglypuff walk toward Arcanine’s big shoulder and showed him where to pet her thick fur, which Jigglypuff did suspiciously. Soon Jigglypuff was burying his hands in Arcanine’s fur with something that could almost be a smile on his face.

“We’re headed back to the house,” McCree told the Jigglypuff as he played with Arcanine’s stripes. “Would you like to ride on his shoulders?”

Jigglypuff looked at him in alarm.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there too. You can ride in front of me. It’s not that far and if you don’t like it, we can stop—how’s that?” Jigglypuff pet Arcanine’s shoulder again and jumped when he turned her big head to look at him. Reaching out with both of his small hands, Jigglypuff boldly—considering how terrified he had been previously—reached out to touch Arcanine’s muzzle.

He jumped when Arcanine licked his hands and then turned to look at McCree with a shy smile.

“See?” McCree asked. “She just wants to be your friend.”

A strange look crossed Jigglypuff’s face. He looked back and forth between McCree and Arcanine’s happy expression and then gestured to Arcanine’s big shoulders.

“Alright,” McCree agreed. “Let’s go!”

He very carefully set Jigglypuff down on Arcanine’s shoulders, showing him how to hold the thick fur of Arcanine’s ruff. Then he swung up behind Jigglypuff, letting the smaller lean back against him.

“Nice and slow now, Arcanine,” McCree cautioned.

Arcanine whined but rocked to her big paws. McCree had to catch Jigglypuff and settle him again in place. He held on with his knees while he steadied Jigglypuff until he got the hang of Arcanine’s smooth walk.

As they approached the house, Jigglypuff’s terrified grip on Arcanine’s fur slowly loosened and he risked a look back at McCree, another almost-smile on his face.

“Would you like to try going a little faster?” McCree asked and the Jigglypuff nodded excitedly. “You heard him, Arcanine! Let’s go on a run!”

Arcanine whuffed happily and broke into an excited sprint. Jigglypuff cried out in alarm and clung to McCree’s hands as it braced him in place. They galloped to the house and then once around it and soon Jigglypuff was giggling as they wove around trees and leaped over bushes. They skidded to a stop in front of the gate and McCree swung down, helping Jigglypuff down after him.

Seeing her chance, Arcanine lunged forward and licked at Jigglypuff who squealed and wiggled in McCree’s hands and then—to McCree’s joy and relief—began laughing.

It was the laughter that brought Hanzo running and he skidded to a stop by the gate. McCree grinned at Hanzo’s shock and Arcanine stopped to look at Hanzo. Her tongue lolled happily out of her mouth.

“Hey Jigglypuff,” McCree said. “Why don’t you show Hanzo what you learned? Ready to boop the snoot?”

Arcanine’s ears pricked forward and she lay down, bringing her nose close; Jigglypuff giggled and tapped her nose.

“Boop!”

Genji’s Shedinja came scuttling out as well, climbing the gate and waving its arms toward Arcanine. Knowing better, Arcanine stayed right where she was, her ears twisting back; she had a scar on her nose from the last time Shedinja tried to boop her.

McCree bounced Jigglypuff on his hip and handed him over to Hanzo when the Pokemon gestured to his trainer. Hanzo murmured to him quietly and then recalled him into his pokeball.

“Was he tired?” McCree wondered, petting Arcanine’s shoulder.

Hanzo nodded and glanced back toward the house. Seemingly satisfied, he opened the gate and walked quickly toward McCree. He stood on tip-toe and pressed a quick kiss to McCree’s lips. His cheeks were flushed when he pulled away, but he was smiling.

Surprised, McCree touched his lips with the tips of his fingers. He was sure that he was blushing too.

“Thank you,” Hanzo murmured. “I don’t think I’ve seen him smile like that in a long time.” his smile wavered. “I hope…that wasn’t too presumptuous of me.”

McCree grinned and looped an arm around Hanzo’s waist, reeling him closer. “Only if this isn’t also presumptuous of me.” Hanzo pressed both hands against McCree’s chest but he was smiling as he looked up into his eyes.

“Not at all,” Hanzo murmured, tilting his head slightly to the side as if in invitation.

Leaning in, McCree kissed him gently, smiling when he felt Hanzo’s arms wind around his neck. Despite the phosphorous flare of their morning, this kiss was low and smoldering; embers in a fire that was no less hot.

When their lips parted, McCree pressed his forehead against Hanzo’s. Hanzo was breathing hard and McCree realized that he was as well.

“I think I could do that forever,” McCree whispered before he could stop himself. He opened his eyes, surprised at his own candor but was reassured when he saw Hanzo’s brilliant smile.

“I think I could get used to that,” Hanzo murmured and leaned in for another kiss.

* * *

It was hard to tell how long they stood like that, kissing for the simple pleasure of it. Eventually their quiet joy was broken when McCree’s stomach growled and Hanzo laughed against his lips.

“Breakfast should be ready by now,” Hanzo murmured. “Come inside.”

McCree bit back his automatic response—only if you come inside me—and reluctantly released Hanzo, following him into the house.

* * *

Genji stayed for another day and night and this time there was less hesitation in climbing in bed with Hanzo.

Hanzo’s Pokemon also immediately climbed in bed with them as well, Jigglypuff curling up with Hanzo this time and the Wingull stealing McCree’s pillow. Biting back laughter, McCree bargained for his pillow back in exchange for a nest formed of his serape; the Wingull considered this offer carefully before agreeing. Smugly, the Wingull preened his tattered feathers between them and Hanzo smiled at McCree over their barrier of chaperones.

Like the night before, they managed to sneak their hands together despite the barrier of Hanzo’s Pokemon. Wingull pinched McCree’s nose with his beak but otherwise did little else. Despite this, McCree knew that if he did anything more, he wouldn’t be so lucky. He smiled charmingly at the Wingull who made a sound like he was choking and tucked his head beneath a wing.

“I think he likes you,” Hanzo murmured with a soft smile. The Wingull made a rude noise. “I do too.”

McCree smiled. “I’m glad,” he whispered back. Jigglypuff grunted and cleared his throat warningly. “Alright, alright,” McCree said with a laugh. “We’ll go to sleep.” He squeezed Hanzo’s fingers and smiled when he felt Hanzo squeeze back.

The next day dawned wet and miserable but Genji still insisted on leaving. Though he could tell that Hanzo was concerned, McCree also knew that he was pleased—brothers they may be, and Hanzo may love him without question, but they always got on each other’s nerves.

Such was the nature of siblings.

As Genji was leaving, a familiar cry broke through the soft haze of rain and McCree grinned. “I’ll be right back,” he assured Hanzo as he pulled on his raincoat and grabbed a small towel from the basket that Hanzo kept by the front door for wet Pokemon.

Talonflame landed awkwardly on the wet fence post, holding on to the wood with one talon; the other held a package wrapped in cloth. “Thank you,” he murmured to Talonflame, rubbing her crest affectionately. “Do you want to come inside?” She clicked her beak, eyed the clouds, and then nodded.

McCree wrapped his left arm in the towel and taking the package from her talon, allowed her to climb in place. He grunted beneath her weight and she squinted at him as if to ask, _are you going to call me fat?_

“Never,” he promised her with a grin. “You’re just a big girl.” She clicked her beak at him, half-spreading her wings as he turned and walked back to the house with her on his arm.

Beneath the awning of the porch, he held her on his extended arm while she shook most of the wet from her feathers; a puff of smoke and a flash of flame and she was completely dry.

McCree grinned and opened the door, careful not to hit Talonflame against the frame as he walked in. “I hope you don’t mind,” he told Hanzo apologetically. “She doesn’t like the rain.”

“I expect not,” Hanzo said dryly. “But I’m afraid that I don’t have a perch for her.”

McCree pointed to the spare chair that Genji had sat in before he had left. “A chair is fine. If it’s alright with you,” he added. “I’ll put a towel down so she doesn’t ruin the wood.” Hanzo went to fetch another towel and Talonflame clicked her beak at Hanzo before hopping off of McCree’s arm to the chair. “Say, where’s Jigglypuff?”

With a wan smile, Hanzo nodded to the table. McCree peered under it and found the Jigglypuff under the table, his eyes on the chair that Talonflame sat on.

“It’s okay,” he assured the suspicious Pokemon. “She’s another of my friends. Will you come out? I have a surprise for you.”

Jigglypuff turned his suspicious look to him but obeyed and allowed McCree to pick him up and set him down on a nearby chair.

“I spoke to a friend of mine,” McCree told Hanzo and Jigglypuff equally. “She likes challenges,” he added as he carefully unwrapped the bundle.

The cloth had been waterproofed in wax and protected a small leather wallet which Brigitte had stamped with a pattern of overlapping scales. McCree smiled when he saw Brigitte’s mark in an unassuming corner—a small gear that matched the tattoo on her shoulder and the silhouette of her Torkoal—and handed it to Jigglypuff.

“It’s for you,” McCree had added.

After a glance at Hanzo who nodded, Jigglypuff carefully took the envelope from McCree and placed it down on the table, looking over the decorated leather before opening the clasps. McCree would have to thank Brigitte later—he hadn’t expected such a nice vessel for his private request and he knew that such tiny work was incredibly difficult.

The leather pouch unfolded to reveal two knives more suited to the size of Jigglypuff’s hands. One was simple, polished steel with a design that Brigitte had once told McCree came from dipping in a special kind of liquid; the other was a deep black that had a design that looked like oil on water.

“One of them is a practice one, or should be,” McCree explained while Jigglypuff continued to stare mutely at the pouch. “They should both be weighted the same but one doesn’t have an edge. I know they won’t replace your own knife but I thought that you could maybe explore other tricks with ones more suited to your size?”

Suddenly, great tears began to well up in Jigglypuff’s eyes. He sniffed, his tiny hands pressed to his mouth as if to try and keep the tears inside.

“Hey,” McCree said immediately, reaching out toward him as his heart sank. “I’m sorry if I upset you. I—” Jigglypuff shook his head and grabbed McCree’s hands in his own, tugging it. Very carefully, McCree slipped his hands beneath Jigglypuff’s body and tugged him close; Jigglypuff buried his face in McCree’s chest, shaking.

“He’s thanking you,” Hanzo said quietly. Surprised, McCree looked at him and found that his eyes were wet as well. “It’s such a lovely gift.”

Embarrassed, McCree held Jigglypuff closer as he trembled. “Well,” he said awkwardly. “He’s amazing at his own knife and I thought…wouldn’t it be fun if he had another? I didn’t want to replace them, but…” he shrugged helplessly.

In his arms, the Jigglypuff muttered something against his chest and McCree lifted him higher. Jigglypuff wiped his eyes and sniffed.

“He’s thanking you,” Hanzo translated.

McCree smiled, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to Jigglypuff’s curled crest. He felt tiny hands grab his cheeks; a moment later one of them lifted and tapped his nose. McCree laughed and pulled away. He leaned close and pressed his face close to Jigglypuff’s. “Boop!”

He felt Jigglypuff’s small hands grab his cheeks, felt him press gently into the touch. Then he stopped and McCree let Jigglypuff have his space, putting him down on the table beside his knife set.

“Why don’t you give them a try?” McCree asked Jigglypuff. “While Hanzo and I clean up?”

Jigglypuff nodded excitedly and began pulling out the knives. McCree gestured to Talonflame; she rolled her eyes and nodded once, agreeing McCree’s silent request to watch over Jigglypuff.

In the kitchen, mostly out of view from the dining room where Jigglypuff was playing with his knives, Hanzo reeled McCree close and kissed him. “Why are you like this?” he asked roughly.

“Like what?” McCree managed to whisper back before his lips were once more occupied.

Hanzo was trembling as much as his Pokemon had. His eyes were squeezed shut and he clung tightly to McCree’s shirt. McCree leaned close and gently kissed Hanzo.

“Why are you so good?” Shaking his head and trying to ignore how the scar on his arm itched, McCree reeled Hanzo closer for another kiss. 

* * *

McCree lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. His right arm was curled around Hanzo’s shoulders; Hanzo’s face was pillowed on his chest, his arm curled possessively around McCree’s ribs. Wingull was sleeping in his nest, having—apparently—elected to stay there instead of chaperone them.

He peeked over at the area where Hanzo’s Pokemon slept. Wingull’s head was still tucked beneath his wing and Jigglypuff was quietly murmuring in his sleep somewhere beneath the little mound of blankets and pillows.

Carefully he tilted his head down to look at Hanzo and found that he could only see his hair. That was fine. He let his head fall back and enjoyed the way that Hanzo’s body was molded against his.

_I’m in trouble,_ he thought to himself. _So much trouble_.

“I think I love you,” McCree whispered.

Against his chest, Hanzo stirred. “Hmm?” he asked sleepily.

“Nothing,” McCree murmured. “Go back to sleep.”

Hanzo sighed and fell still. To be safe, McCree said nothing more of his morning realizations. He couldn’t see that Hanzo’s eyes were open.

* * *

McCree sat on the shore, Jigglypuff curled up next to his hip as he learned from Marill how to make flower crowns. Jigglypuff fiddled with his new knives, his round little face scrunched up in concentration.

“Will you trim this for me?” McCree asked and Jigglypuff gave him a shy smile, flipping open the live knife and cutting where McCree indicated. “Thank you, sweet.” Jigglypuff grunted and flipped the knife closed.

As he fiddled with his practice knife, McCree realized that Jigglypuff was missing a finger. It was hard to tell, as his little hands were more like paws, his fingers short compared to his palm, but now that he was really looking McCree realized that one of his hands didn’t match the other.

He opted not to ask, holding out his loose and fill-formed flower crown for Marill to inspect. The Pokemon inspected it with a frown before shaking her head. She muttered to McCree, pointing at parts of the crown.

“I may as well start over,” McCree laughed as the flower crown fell apart. The Marill looked dismayed. “Don’t worry,” he told her as he reached for the flowers again. “I can use the practice.”

As he worked, he watched Marill. He wondered if she was one of Hanzo’s Pokemon or if she just hung around the shelter. It wasn’t as if Hanzo ordered her around, though to be fair he didn’t order any of his other Pokemon either.

It was hard to tell with Hanzo because most Pokemon seemed to sincerely like him. There were a bunch of Pokemon like Marill (maybe) that hung around the shelter. The lake, which extended further into the mountains and forest than its appearance would suggest, was home to many that Hanzo had helped; the only time that Hanzo ever sent Pokemon away was if they had trainers or if they were more suited for the sea.

Next to him, Jigglypuff made a frustrated sound and he looked over. The Pokemon was pouting, scowling down at the little practice knife in his hands. “Having trouble?” he asked.

Jigglypuff scowled up at him and McCree smiled, putting down the flower crown in favor of lifting Jigglypuff into his lap. “Take a break, sweet,” McCree suggested. “It’s not gonna happen overnight. How about you help me with this flower crown? Take your mind off’a it?”

The Pokemon scowled up at him and grunted. He crossed his arms and pouted but accepted the flower that McCree handed to it. Since he didn’t seem particularly enthused about making a flower crown, McCree let him sulk in his lap as he struggled to correctly weave the flowers together.

Eventually Jigglypuff started wiggling impatiently and McCree put a gentle hand over his curled crest. “Would you like to go back into your pokeball?” he asked him quietly. Hanzo had left it with him, noting that Jigglypuff didn’t like to be out for very long.

Jigglypuff nodded quickly and McCree put the flower crown down—much to Marill’s dismay as it immediately began to unravel—and offered the pokeball to Jigglypuff.

Marill muttered to herself, giving him a sad look. “It’s okay,” he assured her. “He just wanted a break. We just need to give him some space.” She looked sad but nodded.

They were just about to resume making flower crowns when someone came running into the clearing by the shelter. “Are you the owner of the shelter?” he demanded. “Do you work here?”

McCree got to his feet. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“There’s an injured Pokemon,” the man said sharply. “It’s in bad shape. They said that you can help.”

Shaking his head, McCree released his Rapidash. For a moment he considered bringing Jigglypuff along—he guessed that if he asked, Jigglypuff might be kind enough to Sing an injured Pokemon to sleep if it needed to—but decided against it. Jigglypuff deserved a moment to himself and he didn’t know what kind of Pokemon it was or what issues it was having.

He handed Jigglypuff’s Pokeball to Arcanine. “Hold on to him, okay?” he asked. “If you see Hanzo, send him after me.” He put two fingers in his mouth and whistled sharply; Talonflame glided down, her feathers flaming. “Find Hanzo,” he said. “There’s an injured Pokemon. I’m going to see what’s wrong.”

Talonflame spread her wings and he covered his eyes as she took off.

“Where is it?” he asked the man, vaulting on Rapidash’s back.

He and Rapidash waited just long enough to hear the route number before racing off. It wasn’t long before he could hear the sound of a Pokemon in distress but when he caught sight of it, he nearly fell off of Rapidash in shock. Even she seemed surprised, stumbling for the first time since she was a filly.

Ashe smiled, her red lips a slash of bloody promise across her face. “Well hello, Jesse.”

As Rapidash turned to race away, they realized the extent of their danger when her Vivillon glided down from where it had been hiding, unseen. McCree tumbled from Rapidash’s back. She managed to go on a little further before succumbing to the Vivillon’s spores. 

Paralyzed, she tumbled into the thick brush lining the path. 

“Don’t bother,” she heard Ashe say. “Everyone, mount up. Archeops? Let’s go.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens....
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Come and find me on Twitter at [Dracoduceus](https://twitter.com/dracoduceus). I mostly lurk but sometimes I post snippets or updates to when and where I post things! Let me know what you think--I love hearing from you!
> 
> ~DC


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. I meant to post this on Tuesday but forgot.
> 
> Please also note the updated tags. Between now and the next chapter, there will be more, just...warning you.

McCree’s Arcanine nearly bowled Hanzo over when he returned. The poor thing was nearly out of her mind, running back and forth across the meadow. He wondered he long she’d been like that, pacing nervously as she waited for him to come back; there was already a shallow groove dug into the earth and grass.

The Arcanine’s friend, a Marill that seemed to like Hanzo’s lake, watched nervously. Seeing Hanzo, she extended her hands and he picked her up, finding her trembling. Arcanine picked something up and brought it to Hanzo: Jigglypuff’s pokeball. Then she was gone before Hanzo could pet her, returning to her frantic pacing.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. The Marill didn’t know, shaking her head. It was just as well; he couldn’t speak as well to her as he could his Magikarp and even then, he wouldn’t be able to understand everything. “Where’s McCree?”

Arcanine ran to Hanzo and buried her face in his chest. Carefully adjusting Marill, Hanzo dug his fingers into Arcanine’s thick ruff. He lifted Marill to Arcanine’s neck and then buried both hands in her thick fur.

She whined and Hanzo frowned. He’d never heard her make such a sound and when he peered into her eyes, he saw that she was deeply worried and that made him concerned.

He whistled and held out an arm for Wingull to land. “What happened?” he asked. Wingull shook his head that he didn’t know but something clearly had him on edge. He was always an anxious creature but there was a new edge to the way he shifted from foot to foot.

Arcanine nudged her head against his side as he lifted a hand off of her muzzle to stroke Wingull’s breast. “Fly around,” he said. “Find McCree—and Talonflame if she’s around.” When Wingull spread his wings, Hanzo pumped his arm and tossed him into the air. “Come on,” he told Arcanine and Marill. “Let’s get dinner ready while we wait.”

He flung open the windows to the kitchen, allowing Arcanine and Marill to see in, and thrust open the partition between the veranda and sunroom to let them come inside if they wanted to. Arcanine seemed content to rest her chin in the kitchen window and every once in a while, Hanzo paused to pat her nose reassuringly.

Something was wrong. He didn’t know what and had no real reason to feel such a way, but he knew that something was wrong.

Realistically, he knew that McCree had wandered off before, sometimes without announcing his departure. He was a wanderer by nature and Hanzo understood that itch. Sometimes he’d even leave his Pokemon behind as he traveled.

But Arcanine was concerned. That told Hanzo that it wasn’t his usual wandering tendencies. And…

Hanzo glanced into the dining room. The most damning evidence was that McCree’s belt was there. Most of the time, he didn’t wear it around the lake: his Pokemon were free-roaming, and wandered around the meadows and shores of the lake. If he left to wander, he usually took at least his belt with him. The belt and the attached pouch held medicines, antidotes, his pokedex, and extra pokeballs.

Things that a wandering Pokemon trainer might need.

Hanzo tried not to worry.

He nearly cut himself when he heard Wingull scream. A moment later, the Pokemon dove in through the window, narrowly missing Arcanine. He was panicked and that made fear freeze his heart.

Wingull was nearly mindless with urgency and Hanzo flung the food aside, grabbed McCree’s belt, and raced out the door. “Marill,” he said, lifting the Pokemon off of Arcanine’s shoulders. “Guard the house, please.” Seeing McCree’s Tauros nearby, his head up and tail lashing, he shook his head. “Not right now,” he nearly begged the enormous Pokemon. “Stay here, please. Watch the house.”

The Tauros snorted and pawed at the ground but ultimately agreed to stay. He turned to Arcanine. “May I ride you?” he asked and immediately the enormous Pokemon knelt, bringing her shoulders low enough for him to vault easily astride her back. “Lead the way,” he told Wingull.

They seemed to fly down the path, through the trees, and to one of the nearby routes. Wingull landed in the middle of a thicket of trees and Arcanine skidded to a stop so suddenly that Hanzo nearly went flying over her shoulder.

There was something in the bushes.

Throwing himself off of Arcanine, Hanzo carefully pulled back the bushes and found McCree’s Rapidash, her gear still on. Her eyes were wide and panicked but aside from the steady rise and fall of her sides, she wasn’t moving.

Paralyzed.

“Easy, Rapidash,” Hanzo murmured, digging in McCree’s packet. Empty Pokeballs spilled out but he ignored that in favor of searching the pockets for his antidote, praying to anyone that would listen that McCree had a Paralyze Heal.

His hands shaking, he pulled out the small spray bottle. He’d applied it before, shortly after coming to Galar with Reinhardt, but it had been so long…at least, it’d been so long since he’d applied it on a terrestrial Pokemon. Most of the time he would just measure out an amount to add to a tank of water.

He looked down at the small bottle and then at Rapidash who had calmed slightly. There were gloves in McCree’s pack and he slipped them on just in case.

His hands were shaking. That would not do—Rapidash needed him calm. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. This close, Rapidash smelled like the wild mint near his house and like smoke. In her panic, she had probably scorched the grass nearby.

“Poor dear,” he murmured to her, opening his eyes. “It’s okay,” he murmured and stroked her neck. “Close your eyes, now. I don’t want to get the medicine in your eyes.”

Rapidash made a small squeak, a muffled version of her usual call, and closed her eyes. Very carefully, Hanzo began applying the medicine. McCree had three bottles in his bag and Hanzo used all of them, just in case. The gloves he wore were soon covered in medicine…and a thick golden powder.

Stun Spore.

The thought of the move brought back dark memories that he shoved aside in favor of ripping off the gloves and gently helping Rapidash to her feet. He walked her for a little bit, staying on one side of her while Arcanine walked on her other to steady her.

Then, to Hanzo’s surprise, she turned and buried her face in his chest, just as Arcanine had done. She made soft little noises of distress and he wrapped his arms around her neck, the way he had seen McCree do.

“What happened?” he asked against her cheek. “Where is McCree?”

She was harnessed, so McCree had been riding her. So where was McCree? The presence of Stun Spores spoke of foul play and Hanzo’s gut churned. Was it the Shimada-gumi?

Rapidash nudged him, lipped at his sleeve, and Hanzo let her lead him down the path. The trees opened up into a large clearing, the dirt and grass trampled beneath enormous feet. Hanzo paused, kneeling next to the churned earth. He was no tracker, but he knew those tracks.

Rhyhorn.

A whole herd of them.

Rapidash was making low, distressed noises. She was standing beside another set of tracks that Arcanine was thoroughly sniffing. Her fur was standing on end and her teeth were bared in a silent snarl. Wingull sat on Rapidash’s harness, his good eye dark with fury.

Hanzo held out his arms and Wingull immediately flew to him, allowing Hanzo to hold him close and stroke his tattered feathers.

Then Arcanine growled, the sound like thunder, and Hanzo looked over at her. She was nosing at something on the ground. A scrap of dark fabric.

For a moment, Hanzo warred with indecision. Does he pick it up and potentially ruin the scent for the authorities? Does he leave it?

Arcanine and Rapidash were watching him. They were furious and scared; they looked at him with such trust that he knew exactly what he had to do.

Bending, he picked up the fabric. It was Tauros leather. High quality, too. Combined with the Rhyhorn tracks, he figured that it was a gang that had been there—the average Rhyhorn rider was unlikely to use such products.

He tested it in his hands. High quality leather, good quality dye, poor craftsmanship: the dye was uneven in places and it was visible even on the small scrap in his hands. The piece was too small to know too much more and he looked down at the ground again. Hidden beneath a bush was another scrap of fabric, this one red.

Tugging it out, he laid the scrap out flat on the grass. Arcanine snarled, her voice like thunder. A jagged mountain circled by a black chain was woven into the dirty fabric.

Hanzo rocked back on his heels as he thought. Team Magma.

He’d heard of them, of course, but they weren’t based in Galar. As far as he had heard, they were only in the Hoenn region. It would make a terrible kind of sense for them to have expanded, though. From what he knew of their…goals, they intended to extend land masses to support a greater terrestrial population.

Shaking his head, he took his prizes and got to his feet. Holding out his arm, he summoned Wingull. “Fly to Reinhardt,” he said. “I need to speak with him—make sure he has time for me.” Wingull clicked his cracked beak and flew off. Hanzo turned to Rapidash and Arcanine, who watched him. “I need to return to my house,” he said carefully, watching their expressions. “And then I need to speak with a friend of mine. Will you accompany me?”

Arcanine and Rapidash exchanged glances as if silently conferring with each other. Then Rapidash moved to stand beside Hanzo, offering her harness. “Thank you,” he whispered to her and she tossed her head.

He swung into the saddle and patted her shoulder to know that he was settled.

He nearly fell off when Rapidash broke into a gallop, moving faster than he had expected her to be able to so soon after being paralyzed.

When they returned to the house, he found that there was a welcoming committee. McCree’s Tauros and Marill had been joined by another Wingull that had been hanging around the shelter lately (Hanzo thought that his Wingull was trying to court him, but he wasn’t certain), a very cranky Chewtel, and a few other smaller Pokemon visible only by the movement of the grass.

He greeted all of them absently, his mind on other things. First of all, he walked to the dock and summoned Magikarp. He released Jigglypuff as well and they both looked at him with somber expressions, understanding that Something Wasn’t Right.

“Something happened to McCree,” Hanzo said and a dark expression crossed Jigglypuff’s face. Magikarp always looked like he was sucking on something sour, but from the twitch of his fins, he was just as upset as Jigglypuff.

McCree’s Magikarp surfaced nearby, her expression worried, and Hanzo absently reached out to stroke her armored head in as much reassurance as he could offer.

He explained what had happened to Jigglypuff and Magikarp, then presented the Team Magma scarf and the strip of Tauros leather that had been a part of a Rhyhorn riding jacket. Unsurprisingly, Jigglypuff opened his knife and stabbed the knife into the center of the Team Magma symbol.

Reaching out, Hanzo cupped Jigglypuff’s cheek. “I expected nothing less,” he said somberly and Jigglypuff tilted his head into Hanzo’s hand in a rare show of open affection. “Magikarp?”

He dropped everything to catch his Magikarp as he leaped out of the water on the dock.

Maybe Magikarp didn’t like anyone, but he at least didn’t hate McCree, Hanzo knew. And he suspected that he was fond enough of Hanzo to want to bring McCree back if only for him.

“Thank you,” he whispered to the wretched Pokemon before sipping him back into the water. “Arcanine!” he called. The enormous Pokemon came bounding over and he cupped her enormous muzzle in both hands. “I have a favor to ask of you,” he said somberly. “I know that I am not your trainer, but I hope that you would oblige.”

Arcanine gave a very quiet _boof_ and delicately licked his cheek.

“I don’t have any tracking Pokemon,” Hanzo told her, touched by her affection. “And I need to know where they went. They were riding Rhyhorn so they may be fast, but not _that_ fast. Can you track them as far as you can?”

Arcanine looked uneasy, no doubt thinking about how Rapidash had been Stun Spored and left on the side of the road.

Hanzo pet her muzzle, rubbing a hand between her eyes. “I know,” he whispered to her. “It’s dangerous, but I need to know so I can know how to save him.” She nodded. “Be careful,” he whispered. “Once I get to Reinhardt’s, I’ll send Wingull after you.”

She boofed very quietly, nudged him gently with her nose, and then bent to take a deep and thorough sniff of the fabric on the dock. With a last _boof_ , she turned and raced off.

Hanzo turned to the three Pokemon watching him on the dock. “I won’t leave without you,” he assured his Magikarp as he recalled Jigglypuff. “But I have other preparations to make.”

Suddenly, McCree’s Magikarp leaped out of the water as well, flopping on the deck. He very gently gathered her in his arms and stroked her armored head, pet along her scarred crest. The faint striations there were the only signs that she had ever been injured and he smiled.

“Do you want to come along too?” he asked. “I will not forget to find you.” She muttered as he let her back into the lake, gave him a suspicious look, and then began to swim in tight, nervous circles around his Magikarp.

Cracking his knuckles, Hanzo walked back to the house.

The news had to be broken to Tauros, who did not take it well; he turned and charged into the trees, toppling two and pounding them to splinters before his rage cooled. He still paced in agitation, his tails lashing like whips. The Wingull perched on the eaves of the house hissed and took to the air; Hanzo thought that he went to fly after Arcanine, but wasn’t sure.

Hanzo closed the shutters and the doors to the veranda. Then he ducked into his room and opened the secret compartment that hid behind his bookshelf. He thought that McCree knew that it was there, but like they ignored that McCree occasionally wandered out to battle, they ignored this secret as well.

There was a small shrine dedicated to his mother; his father’s shrine was always decorated with colored shells that Magikarp brought from the depths of the lake. He bowed somberly to the dusty picture; a dried string of flowers lay draped serenely over the edges of the frame.

“I know that it is not _obon_ ,” Hanzo told the picture dryly, feeling very silly. “So, it is not time for me to honor you as is my duty as your son. And I know that we have not always…agreed. However, despite my misgivings about much of our history, I must now thank you for the skills to save the one I…” his throat closed off.

It almost felt as if he could feel the weight of his mother’s disapproval settling around his neck like a noose; as if, wherever her spirit may be, she had closed her hand around his throat to stop him from talking.

But that was ridiculous and now was not the time to lie to himself. He raised his chin and stared defiantly at the dusty picture. “I must now thank you for the skills to save the one I love.” It felt as if the last shackle that bound him to her had shattered. He wondered if his father’s spirit was proud of him.

He reached for the weapon that was stored with her picture. The family heirloom was long gone, having been lost to time and decay. Hanzo had been glad to watch the old wood burn. Fire purifies, and that first act of defiance, to throw the ancient bow into the fire had been the first broken link in the chain that bound him to his family. 

This weapon was new.

Shortly after coming to Galar on the kindness of an old sailor, he had purchased a bow. The weapon was reassuring in his hands, even if it was a weapon of destruction. With the growth of the shelter, he had treated himself to a better one.

Custom-made.

Reinhardt had been more than happy to refer him to an old friend of his to assist in the commission. The result was a beauty of metal and fiberglass, lightweight with a power that seemed impossible for the delicacy of the mechanisms.

He held the bow close for a moment. His mother had wanted him to master the sword and he did so as an obedient son, but he had always loved the bow. The power he could feel in the string as he pulled it back and loosed the arrow.

It was like Flying.

With a bow much like this, he had killed. He had hoped to spare this beautiful thing such a bloody fate, but it seemed that the spirits had other plans.

He selected a quiver of arrows and folded the whole mess into a covered tube. It wouldn’t do to tell the world what he planned.

Quickly, he stripped out of his work clothes and donned a new set. He armored up, for once thankful for his brother’s paranoia and he paused for a moment to wonder if he should invite Genji along.

In the end, he decided against it. He would not bring more danger to those he loved.

He packed a bag. Super Potions, Hyper Potions, Max Revives. They were all old but they’d still work—he made sure to keep his stash up to date. He packed Magikarp, Wingull, and Jigglypuff’s pokeballs, kept them in easy reach on his belt; on McCree’s belt, he checked the pokeballs for Arcanine, Talonflame, Tauros, and Rapidash.

Very carefully, he rearranged the bags and added Burn Heals, just in case. In his mind, he reviewed his options.

Water wins Fire, he remembered his mother teaching him. Fire, Ground, and Rock. From what he knew of Team Magma, they used all three types. Then he considered his team. Jigglypuff would be fine, he knew—he had been trained by the best and if he gets into a pinch, he could always Sing his way out.

Wingull was missing an eye and Magikarp…well, Magikarp didn’t know any moves.

“Now is not the time to worry,” Hanzo told himself sternly as he slung his bags over his shoulder. He locked up the house and approached Rapidash. “I must ask for another favor. I need to get to the Pokemon shelter that’s run by Reinhardt—do you know the one?”

To his surprise, Rapidash nodded. She gestured imperiously to her back and with a slight smile, Hanzo settled the bags behind her saddle. He turned to the gathered Pokemon. They had all moved to cluster in front of him, watching him with worried eyes.

“They took McCree,” he said, moving to the docks where more Pokemon were peeking out of the water to listen. “I’m going to get him back, but I don’t know where they are and what kind of resistance I might face.”

A Quagsire groaned as she climbed out of the water. She walked up to Hanzo and peered at him with her beady black eyes. Then she nodded and gestured to herself—she would go with him.

Pulling out an empty pokeball—she was wild—Hanzo touched it to her nose and watched as she disappeared into the ball. He shrank the ball and put it in the bag on his belt. Turning, he found that there were more, waiting to be placed in a pokeball. Polywhirl who he had seen shadow boxing with McCree and Marill, the Arcanine’s friend; both Magikarps, of course. Golduck. A Spheal and a Dewgong.

Soon his bag was bulging with the pokeballs of those that had volunteered to come along. For a moment, Hanzo held them close to his chest. He hated the idea of any of them being hurt but at the same time he was touched that they would be so willing to march into battle for McCree.

He walked to Rapidash who was waiting patiently, and swung into the saddle. “Let’s go,” he said and she was off like a shot.

Arcanine found them at Reinhardt’s shelter. As best as they could tell, she had lost the trail at a nearby lake.

“Is this wise?” Reinhardt asked, his good eye worried.

Hanzo checked his gear again. He checked each arrow and warmed up his bow. Rapidash’s gear would remain with Reinhardt and his wife Ana; Hanzo would ride Arcanine who, though not as fast, was easier to hang on to. In any case, Rapidash would need all the rest she could get, and Arcanine was still relatively fresh.

“Not at all,” Hanzo said as Ana approached with another bag.

“Paralyze Heals,” she said and raised a silver brow, daring him to argue. “You did say that there was someone there that had a Pokemon that could use Stun Spore?”

Making a face, he tucked the medicine away and took a deep breath. “Thank you,” he said.

“Go,” Ana said with a wicked curl to her lips. “Go get your man. And when you see him, tell him that he promised to visit. I expect to see him in a week for dinner.”

Shaking his head, Hanzo climbed on Arcanine’s shoulders and they were off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it? Hate it? Let me know, I'd love to hear from you!
> 
> You can also find me on Twitter at [Dracoduceus](https://twitter.com/dracoduceus). 
> 
> ~DC


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** canon-typical violence and off-screen death

McCree groaned as he woke up.

It took awhile for him to remember where he was and what had happened. The man that had asked for help with an injured Pokemon. Riding Rapidash right into a trap. Ashe’s Vivillon.

Fucking Stun Spore.

He made a face at the dryness of his mouth. Slowly, he managed to move his fingers and toes, and then wrists and ankles, and eventually managed to sit up. He was in a cave that had been fitted with iron bars to turn it into a cell. Light was provided by a few battery-powered lanterns.

Beyond the bars, he could hear the sound of Rhyhorn. From the other lantern lights hanging in the main area of the cave, he could see their stables; across of the rows of stables were the storage areas where McCree could see a logo emblazoned on saddles and harnesses: a jagged mountain surrounded by a black chain.

Deadlock.

The scar on his forearm, still wrapped, itched. As a kid he had wanted to be a famous trainer. Team Magma scooped him and his neighbor up, appealing to his dreams of grandeur, to her dreams of fire and brimstone and power.

He rubbed his aching head and lay back against the cool stone. The tiny taste of power that Ashe got with that particular…chapter of Team Magma hadn’t been enough. She craved the fear that she could sow like a drug and with McCree’s help she took over.

Under the previous leaders, Team Magma had been a joke; under her leadership, they were a name to be feared. People whispered about the Deadlock group and how they ruled their area uncontested.

Or rather…they had.

McCree winced. Ashe’s family probably pulled some strings to get their precious daughter out of jail. He had hoped that they’d finally disown her completely after such an arrest.

And now she was back to clean up loose ends. From the Rhyhorn in the other room, she had a lot of followers; from what he knew of her, they weren’t anything to sniffle at, either. They were formidable trainers—she only expected the best, after all.

The thought made him queasy. She was the kind of trainer that Hanzo hated—the kind that pushed Pokemon past the point they should be pushed. The only good Pokemon in her eyes was a strong one.

Was a Pokemon that won.

Headache temporarily pushed aside with the coolness of the cave, McCree sat up and looked out into the stables. He thought that he counted ten stalls, but that didn’t mean that there weren’t more Rhyhorn where he couldn’t see.

Very carefully, he got to his feet and swayed, his limbs still not quite used to moving after Ashe’s fucking Vivillon’s Stun Spore. He hadn’t known that it was possible for a Pokemon to make it hurt, but the damn creature was just as cruel as his master.

As he looked around, he caught sight of something on the ground near the bars of his cage. It was tucked between a few stones so that it was nearly invisible, but if it hadn’t been for the light, he wouldn’t have seen the tiny little glint of metal.

He knelt with a quiet hiss and picked it up. It was a small golden bullet; on the underside where the firing pin would strike, were the initials J.M. Frowning, he inspected the bullet again. What was one of his own bullets doing here?

Shaking his head—and groaning quietly to himself at the resulting nausea—he tucked the bullet into his breast pocket. It was unlikely that he’d need it, but there was no point in leaving it behind.

Across the room, he saw movement and froze.

A tiny shape appeared in the darkness, waddling on short little legs. It was dirty and covered in dark red stains, its pretty sun hat torn and stained, and McCree’s breath caught in his throat.

Jigglypuff looked at him across the stables and gestured to his ears, miming covering them. Quickly, McCree obeyed, pressing his palms as hard as he could into his ears to combat the hypnotic sounds of Jigglypuff’s Sing.

Seemingly satisfied, Jigglypuff walked confidently through the stables to McCree’s cell where he critically inspected the bars. The dour expression on his face was back and boldly, McCree reached through the bars.

Jigglypuff huffed but, to McCree’s surprise, hugged his hand tightly. He squeezed one of McCree’s fingers and gestured to another entrance into the cave. Jigglypuff gestured to the entrance, to himself, then to McCree. _I’ll be back for you_ , he guessed that the Pokemon was saying. Then he gestured for McCree to be quiet and walked away.

Despite himself, McCree was worried. Clearly Jigglypuff knew what he was doing—and Hanzo trusted him enough to let him wander like this, but…there were a lot of Team Magma grunts, and Jigglypuff at least appeared to be alone.

He hoped that Hanzo wasn’t with him. Whether he was yakuza as well or not, it didn’t matter. Hanzo didn’t battle, and Hanzo…McCree swallowed. He didn’t want him to be hurt.

Another dark shape appeared in the caves where Jigglypuff first appeared and McCree’s breath caught. Then he blinked when he recognized the Polywhirl that had been in Hanzo’s shelter.

The _wild_ Polywhirl.

It was followed by Marill and the great lumbering form of the wild Quagsire that was fond of Hanzo’s shelter. At first he was confused why the Deadlock gang might have Water Pokemon and then he saw the distinctive scar on Quagsire’s jaw that made it bend unnaturally. Hanzo had been worried that she wouldn’t make it and had stayed with her for a few days as she slowly healed.

They checked the stalls to make sure that the Rhyhorn were sleeping before moving quickly toward McCree.

“What are you doing here?” McCree whispered and Polywhirl held a finger to his face.

Quagsire inspected the bars before nodding to Polywhirl. She wrapped her paws around a bar and pulled; Polywhirl grabbed the one next to hers. Between the two of them, the metal groaned and then bent, opening a hole large enough for McCree to fit through.

When he wobbled and nearly fell, Quagsire caught and steadied him. Marill wrapped her small paws around his leg in a hug and he bent to pat her head. He patted Polywhirl as well and hugged Quagsire when she kept him from falling again.

Leaning on her shoulders, he was able to hobble along to the tunnel that Jigglypuff had gone down. Marill and Polywhirl, smaller and faster, trotted ahead to scout the way.

They entered another room, lit by a small hole in the rock high above. McCree bet that it would suck when it rained, but perhaps the hole in the rock wasn’t large enough to be too affected by the brisk winds.

From the narrow cots around the sides, it was a dormitory.

“Was”, especially because the few that had been in the room were dead. Jigglypuff stood beneath the hole in the ceiling, rinsing his knife in the little puddle of water. Seeing them, he grunted, closed the knife, and tucked it away.

McCree knelt and Jigglypuff hugged his leg. “Come on,” he whispered. “Let’s get out of here.” Jigglypuff grunted in agreement and Quagsire helped him to his feet again. He was beginning to feel stronger, but would feel much better if they were gone sooner rather than later.

The Pokemon paused, hearing something that he couldn’t, and Quagsire pushed him into a dark alcove. The other Pokemon scattered, finding little niches too small for him to hide in. They waited for a few breathless seconds before evidently deeming it safe for them to leave.

As they walked out into a larger cave, a Torkoal shuffled into the cave at the same time and saw them. Its shell vents steamed and McCree was grateful for a bare second that Torkoals were relatively quiet on their own.

It was a moot point, given the acoustics of the cave; he could already hear yelling in the other passageways. Marill planted herself and chirped authoritatively at them. Grunting, Quagsire pulled McCree along and he craned his head to look back at the tiny Pokemon who had faced off against the much-larger opponent.

Muttering to himself, the Polywhirl squinted up at McCree and Quagsire. Then he turned and sprinted down a side tunnel; when McCree made to follow him, Quagsire grunted and urged him down the same path they had been going down.

A moment later he could hear the sound of rushing water and battle in the direction that Polywhirl had gone. Seeing that Jigglypuff was lagging behind, McCree tugged away from Quagsire and scooped him up. He was still wobbly on his legs but mostly able to move on his own. Jigglypuff muttered, clearly unhappy with being manhandled, but when McCree whispered a breathless apology, he patted McCree’s arm. McCree took this to mean that Jigglypuff accepted his apology and accepted that this was a necessary evil, given his much shorter stride compared to McCree’s and Quagsire’s.

Ahead, he heard the sound of battle and an Arcanine skidded around the corner. Her fur was damp and clumped with mud but her face lit up when she saw McCree. She skidded to a stop in front of him and nudged him so very gently with her nose, her tail wagging.

Jigglypuff grunted in his arms and Arcanine snorted, shaking her head. But she turned and knelt to offer McCree her back. With him mounted, they moved much faster through the caves.

The tunnels opened into an enormous cavern and McCree gaped as he looked around. There were still trainers that hadn’t met Jigglypuff’s wrath, and a few Rhyhorn had evidently escaped his Sing—or they had simply woken up.

And there, in the middle of it all, seated on McCree’s Rapidash like a conquering emperor, was Hanzo.

Hanzo, and what had to be at least half of the Pokemon shelter he ran. In the pool behind Hanzo were two Magikarp—a wretchedly ugly and scarred shiny, and a large female Magikarp.

Cries that echoed in the caves made McCree look up. Two Wingulls circled around a familiar Vivillon that was beginning to look panicked at being so harried. (He was tickled to see that despite missing all but two of his tail feathers, Hanzo’s Wingull was quicker and nimbler on the wing than McCree would have expected.)

And then there was an Archeops in the air and the two Wingulls split neatly, dodging those terrible, snapping jaws; a Ninetails leaped into the fray and two of Hanzo’s shelter Pokemon fainted. Hanzo immediately recalled them just as the last Pokemon that McCree wanted to see charged in.

It was Ashe’s Golurk, Bob.

Bob was Ashe’s oldest Pokemon, and one of the oldest Pokemon that McCree knew. It had been Ashe’s guardian since she was young and he suspected that Bob was even older than that, having likely watched over multiple generations of her family. As a result, McCree knew that it was ridiculously strong and most of Hanzo’s shelter Pokemon wouldn’t stand a chance.

Somehow Hanzo seemed to sense this and murmured something to Rapidash. She backed up, her head down as if preparing to charge. Hanzo’s other Pokemon, most of which seemed winded after their battles, eyed the Golurk and the Ninetails.

Ashe herself showed up, riding on her Rhyhorn. “Hanzo Shimada,” she called, her voice carrying in the now-quiet cavern. “What an honor.”

“Ashe,” Hanzo said shortly, reaching down to run a hand soothingly over Rapidash’s bent neck. “I’m surprised you’ve gotten out of jail.”

Her face twisted into an ugly scowl. “No thanks to you.”

“I am hardly your ally,” Hanzo said smoothly. If he was concerned about being faced down by a Rhyhorn, a Ninetails, and an enormous Golurk, he gave no sign of it. “So I would hardly break you out of jail.”

McCree swallowed around a dry throat. They knew each other? Then he wondered if either of them knew where he was. Jigglypuff patted him in what he may have meant to be a soothing manner.

His question was answered a moment later when Ashe jabbed a finger at him and Arcanine. “ _He_ is _mine_.”

“I didn’t realize that slavery was legal in Galar,” Hanzo said smoothly, not even turning his head. He sat so still and confidently; his head was tilted as if looking down on Ashe—as if she was beneath him.

For the first time, McCree wondered, really wondered, about Hanzo’s past. But again, Ashe seemed to be on the same wavelength as him.

“You were the leader of the Shimada Clan,” she hissed, dangerous as an Arbok.

Hanzo inclined his head. Behind him, the Magikarp spun in nervous circles, occasionally poking their head about the water to peer at the proceedings before dipping beneath the water and circling again.

“I was,” Hanzo agreed, to McCree’s shock.

The Shimada Clan were notorious gangsters. In his arms, he could feel Jigglypuff tense—and then McCree remembered what Genji had said.

That Jigglypuff was yakuza. It would make sense that his trainer, who had admitted to hatching Jigglypuff, was yakuza as well. McCree swallowed hard. Arceus, he really knew how to choose them.

“I am no longer,” Hanzo continued. “And I never was a friend to Team Magma—or the Deadlock Gang.”

Reacting to its master’s fury, the Rhyhorn roared. Lowering his shoulder, Bob charged, followed by Ninetails.

Suddenly, the water behind Hanzo was filled with light; it exploded, sending drops flying everywhere. With a roar, McCree’s Magikarp—now a Gyrados—sent an enormous burst of water at Ashe’s Pokemon.

Bob dodged but the Ninetails was blown backwards by the force. Ivory fur dripping, the Ninetails snarled and charged again; this time when Gyrados’s…fuck he didn’t know, water blast…struck the Ninetails, she didn’t get up again. Gyrados voiced a ringing cry of triumph.

High above, the Wingulls screamed and McCree looked up. Suddenly there was another Pokemon in the air as well—a familiar black and red and grey form. Talonflame used Flame Charge, sending Ashe’s Vivillon crashing to the ground; Ashe recalled him before he struck the ground, her teeth gritted.

“Archeops! Bob! Do something!” she roared, her voice echoing in the caverns.

Gyrados tilted her head back and released another enormous plume of water. Distracted by both Wingulls and McCree’s Talonflame, the Archeops was struck by it and it flew into a nearby stalactite.

With a pained cry it fell and Ashe recalled it. In the meantime, Bob charged. Realizing what he was about to do, McCree opened his mouth to call a warning.

Instead he yelled when Arcanine leaped for the pond, clinging to her thick ruff to keep from falling off. They crashed into the water and immediately Hanzo’s Magikarp tucked himself under one of his arms.

The water was churning and he felt himself being moved and jostled around; the water was murky and full of bubbles and foam, keeping him from seeing anything. Just when he was beginning to run out of air, he felt Hanzo’s Magikarp pushing them toward the surface and he kicked halfheartedly, following his lead. 

When they surfaced again, the Earthquake had passed. The ceiling had collapsed, revealing bright sunlight; the waterway had expanded and now McCree found it dotted with Pokemon. He was relieved to find that Jigglypuff was still clinging to Arcanine’s ruff as she treaded water.

Hanzo’s Magikarp gurgled and McCree nodded, kicking until he could reach the edge of the rock. Behind him, he could hear some of the Pokemon conversing among each other. When he turned to look at them, he watched them duck beneath the water and disappear.

With the help of his Gyrados and Hanzo’s Magikarp, he hauled himself out of the water. Panting, he looked around at the ruins of the cave. Everything was in piles of rubble, a testament to Bob’s great strength when summoning an Earthquake. McCree had seen it do so before, but it was an entirely different thing to be a receiving party of it; he just hoped that it hadn’t caused a tidal wave given their proximity to the water.

Ahead, the rubble moved and shifted and he scrambled to his feet in alarm. Rhyhorn and Bob had protected Ashe, of course. He felt queasy as he watched her get to her feet.

For all he loved and cherished his Magikarp—no, Gyrados—he wasn’t sure that she was up to the task of fighting Bob.

And he wasn’t sure that they could escape this. For one, he didn’t know where Hanzo or Rapidash were. Talonflame and the circling Wingulls might know, having more or less escaped the Earthquake, but it wasn’t safe to search now.

He didn’t dare leave Hanzo, who may be somewhere nearby, to Ashe.

“Bob?” Ashe purred and the enormous Golurk turned toward McCree.

McCree didn’t bother pleading. He and Bob had been friends of sorts, as much as another trainer’s Pokemon and a human could be friends, but he never once doubted Bob’s loyalty. Bob would never willingly move from Ashe’s side.

There was a light behind him and an explosion of water. An enormous red form climbed out of the water, though somewhat awkward on land, to place himself between McCree and Bob.

His breath caught. Hanzo’s Magikarp had evolved.

Hanzo’s Magikarp had evolved _to protect him_. The brilliant red Gyrados hissed like the sound of water on hot stone and even though he was on the other end of that hiss, McCree felt his knees go a little weak at the sound. Even Bob seemed to hesitate, wavering for half a second as it processed the enormous shape now in front of it.

Intimidate, McCree realized. He was used to seeing it on other Pokemon, but to hear that terrible, rattling hiss from an enormous Gyrados was…something else altogether.

Bob seemed to shake it off and continued to stalk forward, one of its enormous fists beginning to glow purple.

Looking up at Gyrados, McCree realized that he—still just as scarred and wretched as he had been as a Magikarp—was watching him with a single eye as if waiting. McCree nearly laughed.

“Surely you don’t need me to tell you that you can absolutely kick their asses?”

Gyrados made a peculiar sound that was nearly a laugh before turning back to Bob. As McCree watched in fascination, Gyrados prepared an attack. He could feel the very air begin to hum and he shivered as the temperature seemed to drop as well.

Bob was beginning to speed up, one of its fists cocked back and filled with violet fire. An enormous blast of water flew at Bob from Hanzo’s Gyrados—even larger than McCree’s Gyrados had produced and the Golurk was thrown backwards. Ashe and her Rhyhorn dodged.

“Sobble!” McCree heard a familiar voice cry. “Use Surf!”

Ashe spun in the saddle and cried out as an enormous wave of water spilled out of a side passageway that had escaped Bob’s Earthquake. An enormous wave of water washed along the causeway, knocking Ashe from the saddle of her Rhyhorn and sending them both spinning out. As the rubble where Bob lay shifted, Hanzo’s Gyrados roared, his cry echoing off the stones around them. McCree could feel the hum in the air as Gyrados charged another attack.

When one of Bob’s hands emerged, Gyrados pelted it again; when the rush of water faded, Bob remained still.

“Rhyhorn!” Ashe cried. “Bob!” when the Golurk didn’t move, she recalled him, holding the pokeball tightly to her chest. Her hair was plastered to her face, her makeup smeared.

McCree gasped when he caught sight of a Sobble scrambling up a nearby rock where it raised itself to its hind legs. Behind it, a man in a dark jacket stepped out of a nearby cave, which had somehow escaped the destruction of Bob’s Earthquake.

“Good job, Sobble,” Reyes said, patting the Pokemon on his crested head. It chirred and turned to look at McCree with a wide grin. “Now. I’ve greatly looked forward to meeting you, Elizabeth.”

“The name’s Ashe,” the former Deadlock leader snapped.

Reyes continued to amble leisurely toward her. He held a pair of cuffs in one hand. “What’ll it be? Wanna have a nice, long chat? I’m sure your Pokemon could use a break.”

She visibly wavered. Ruthless she may be, and definitely cruel to both humans and Pokemon, but McCree knew that she dearly loved Bob.

“We’ll heal up your Golurk,” Reyes added and he must have said something else but McCree was distracted by the wail that Hanzo’s Gyrados let out.

McCree watched as he dove back into the water and then realized that the other Water Pokemon there had been moving around in distress, bobbing up and down in the water.

No, he realized as he watched the brilliant red form of the Gyrados dive down, down. They were swimming up and down from something in the churning sand at the bottom of the pool. Jigglypuff and Arcanine had climbed out of the water at some point, looking miserable as they stared into the water.

Just as he was debating jumping in to see what the fuss was about, he saw Hanzo’s Gyrados rising from the sandy bottom, something held delicately in his jaws.

No, someone.

Hanzo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it? Hate it? ~~Hate me for leaving it here?~~
> 
> Let me know! I really do love hearing from you. 
> 
> You can also find me on Twitter at [dracoduceus](https://twitter.com/dracoduceus).
> 
> ~DC


	7. Wandering Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me so long to write because I couldn't figure out how to best end it. The way that I wanted to would result in the story never actually ending. I'm thinking about writing another short blurb where Hanzo and McCree finally (finally) get some alone time without their chaperones, but I'm not sure when that'll happen.

McCree scowled at Talonflame, who clicked her beak at him. “I won’t be late!” he scolded. “But I just want to be sure that this looks just right. These flowers are important, you know.”

Talonflame hissed but subsided when he sighed and stroked her head and back. Tucked beneath one of her wings, Jigglypuff stared up at McCree with his big, sad eyes.

“Okay,” he grumbled and held out his hands to Jigglypuff. The Pokemon climbed in and McCree braced him against his hip, grabbing the flowers with his other hand. He nearly dropped both when he turned around to find Reyes leaning smugly against the doorframe.

“Was he fussing about the flowers?” Reyes asked Talonflame who chirred happily. “You young idiot. Come on—I’m sure he’ll like whatever flowers you got him.”

McCree checked his pockets to make sure he had his keys, the pokeballs of those Pokemon that insisted on visiting Hanzo with him, and of course the flowers, McCree turned to look at Reyes. “Well?” he demanded. “Are we going?”

“You’re going out dressed like that?” Reyes asked, eyeing McCree’s clothes.

“I’m wearing a suit!” McCree grumbled, pushing past Reyes and shooing him away from the door so he could close and lock it.

Reyes snorted. “It’s fine to go to a funeral.”

Scowling, McCree stomped down the porch. “Just get in the car.”

He spent the drive entertaining Jigglypuff, who had been very quiet since they returned from the sea caves. It was a novel thing to him to ride in a car it seemed, so McCree made sure that he had a good view out the window and pointed out various sights as they whizzed by.

When Reyes parked and McCree climbed out, he found Ana and Reinhardt waiting. “Oh,” he murmured just as Ana grabbed his ear and twisted.

“You wander off and don’t visit?” she demanded. “And this is the only time we get to see each other?”

“Hello, Jigglypuff,” Reinhardt said somberly. “How have you been?”

“Huff,” Jigglypuff said, the first time that McCree had ever heard him come close to saying anything.

Reyes cleared his throat and gestured. “Shall we?” he asked pointedly. “Before we’re late?”

“I’m not done with you,” Ana told McCree sternly before letting him go.

Jigglypuff wiggled in McCree’s grip but didn’t seem to want to walk and now toyed with the brim of his sun hat. “You okay?” McCree asked.

Looking up at him, Jigglypuff grunted. Then, in a rare and surprising fit of affection, he turned his head into McCree’s chest and wrapped his short arms around as much as McCree’s ribs as he could.

Smiling, McCree squeezed Jigglypuff against his side as they continued walking down the halls. 

“Oh, it’s you,” one of the aides said sourly. “Thank goodness.”

“Don’t sound so happy to see us,” Reyes said just as sourly. “I thought healthcare workers were known for their fantastic bedside manner.”

The aide grunted, the Clefable at his side looking unusually dour as well. “I don’t appreciate being cursed at or threatened and I’ve had both happen to me today. So you can imagine how much I care about what you think about my attitude. The sooner you leave, the sooner life will go back to normal.”

Jigglypuff growled and McCree tried to hide a smile. “I doubt such a ‘normal’ exists,” he said tightly. “Now where—”

“You can’t miss it,” the aide said churlishly, turning and walking away. The Clefable gestured vaguely down the hall before following after the aide.

“The nursing staff have such sunny dispositions,” Reyes said to no one in particular.

“I bet you’ve been tormenting them,” McCree accused weakly.

Reyes laughed. “Oh, not _me_ ,” he promised. “Come on, I think it’s down this hall.” Jigglypuff grunted in McCree’s arms and McCree twisted to give him a smile.

“I think Jigglypuff believes that about as much as I do,” he said dryly as they turned a corner. Even Jigglypuff seemed surprised by what they found there.

A large Miltank stood guard over one of the doorways, her arms crossed disapprovingly over her chest. She snorted when she saw McCree—she never really liked him—but stepped aside when Reyes patted her head.

“Ah, there you are,” the man in the room said with a warm smile for Reyes. Like the Miltank, he had never warmed to McCree so the look he gave him was lukewarm at best. Normally this would bother McCree but his attention was entirely on the figure on the bed.

Jigglypuff squirmed and McCree walked quickly to the bed to set him down.

“Look at you,” Hanzo said. There was energy in his voice, though his face still looked pale and drawn. “You’re dressed in a suit! And is that a new hat?” The last was directed at Jigglypuff who draped himself over Hanzo’s chest in an awkward hug. Hanzo pressed his hand against the back of Jigglypuff’s head—careful of his hat.

“Hey,” McCree said weakly and Hanzo looked up at him.

“Hey,” Hanzo said, smiling up at McCree. “How are you feeling?”

McCree laughed weakly and gingerly sat at the edge of the narrow cot. Jigglypuff huffed but shuffled to the side to give him more room. “Everyone misses you,” McCree said, patting Hanzo’s knee. “What’ya say we break you out of here?”

There was a hint of steel in Hanzo’s smile. “I’d like that very much.”

“You two are so sweet you’re going to make me puke,” Reyes said from the doorway. He was leaning with his arms crossed against the frame while the man that had been keeping Hanzo company before their arrival looked amused.

Hanzo looked up at McCree. “Will you introduce me to your friends?” he asked dryly.

Reyes cursed and the other man covered a laugh with his fist. “Gabriel Reyes and Jack Morrison,” McCree explained with an indulgent smile. “I introduced them to you a few days ago when you were high on painkillers. You said that Jack’s hair looked like sunshine.”

As he expected, Hanzo recoiled with an adorable blush. When he looked down at Jigglypuff, the Pokemon nodded solemnly in confirmation.

“You were high as a kite,” Jack said. “It was very sweet.” The Wooloo at his side, looking little more than a puff of black wool, bleated in agreement.

McCree rolled his eyes at Hanzo. “The nurses are getting together your release papers,” he told Hanzo, squeezing his knee again. “If they don’t, well, we have a plan for a jailbreak.”

Though Jigglypuff gave him a reproachful look, he still nodded in agreement when Hanzo looked at him. Laughing weakly, Hanzo scooped Jigglypuff closer in an awkward one-armed hug.

Seeing Reyes’s scowl, McCree rolled his eyes. “Reyes is the one that helped me to get out of the Deadlocks,” he added. “And it turns out when he realized how old he was, he decided to settle down and do some breeding.”

Sleepy recognition bloomed in Hanzo’s eyes. “The Sobble. I saw it in the Deadlock base.”

“He was insistent when Talonflame found us,” Reyes explained. “Not that I would have turned down an opportunity to smack the ingrate myself. How many times had I told him to be more careful?”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s get you dressed, Hanzo, and then we can get out of here. Gabe? Will you go with me to get the release papers?” grumbling, Reyes followed him outside where they could distantly hear Jack say, “Miltank, Wooloo, stay outside and guard the door, please?”

Flushing, McCree smiled at Hanzo. He lifted the bag he brought with him from the house. “Brought some clothes for you.”

“Is this an excuse to see me naked?” Hanzo asked with a wan smile.

McCree blushed. “No,” he blurted. “Ah, that is…unless you want me to. I’ll behave, I promise.”

He realized that Hanzo and Jigglypuff were looking at him, the Pokemon incredulously and Hanzo with fond indulgence. Hanzo murmured something to Jigglypuff and he huffed, moving aside. “Help me up?”

Swallowing hard and aware that Hanzo was favoring his right side, McCree carefully eased his right arm beneath Hanzo’s shoulders and helped him into a sitting position. Jigglypuff watched from the foot of the bed, looking equal parts worried and amused.

“I could use a shower,” Hanzo muttered. “I smell _terrible_.”

McCree smiled. “It’s true that you don’t smell the best after however-many days of sponge baths.” The look Hanzo gave him was poisonous. Very slowly, unsure of his welcome, McCree leaned in close and brushed his lips against Hanzo’s.

Hanzo sighed as if in relief and tipped his head into the kiss. It was gentle and slow, just their lips brushing against each other’s. Hanzo’s left hand came up and gripped his shirt, pressing wrinkles into the fabric.

Though he had visited Hanzo many times before—another reason that the aides were so sour at seeing him and Reyes—they hadn’t had a chance to properly speak about what happened, didn’t have a chance for even the softest kiss. Mostly because Hanzo had been in and out of consciousness—this was the first time that McCree had seen Hanzo awake, truly awake and alert, for more than a few minutes. 

When McCree pulled back, just a little, Hanzo’s eyelashes were damp. “I was afraid I’d lost you,” he admitted.

“Is that why you brought the entire fucking shelter?” McCree asked, his voice brittle. “Arceus, I was so afraid I would lose _you_.”

“You were?” Hanzo asked incredulously. “I come back from an errand and find you gone? Rapiash Paralyzed on the side of the road and Rhyhorn prints everywhere? What _else_ was I supposed to think?”

McCree laughed roughly. “Most people would’a gone to the police.”

“I’m not ‘most people’,” Hanzo pointed out with a weak smile.

Unable to help himself, McCree laughed weakly. “No, you certainly are not,” he agreed and gently kissed Hanzo again.

They pointedly avoided talking about Ashe, about what had happened. Reyes had explained, at least to McCree, that the hospital was told only the bare minimum and that they were to keep it that way.

The hospital didn’t need to know about the ex-Deadlock member that was visiting an ex-yakuza leader. And wasn’t that enough to boggle the mind?

“I smell something burning,” Hanzo teased. His eyes crinkled when he smiled. “You’re thinking too hard.” He shifted his left hand and rested it squarely over McCree’s wrapped arm, over the mark he had always kept hidden.

McCree ducked his head. “That’s for later. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Though Hanzo was weak and off-balance, he didn’t need much assistance, much to McCree’s relief. Undressing was a very interesting ordeal and McCree tried not to stare too hard. This wasn’t the way that he wanted to peel the clothes off of Hanzo, wasn’t the way he wanted to help him into the shower.

Those thoughts, more than the awareness of Jigglypuff’s presence, was enough to keep his touches clinical. He had to help Hanzo shower which was another interesting ordeal and resulted in water being spilled all over the bathroom suite but Hanzo didn’t seem to care, happy to clean off the antiseptic smell from his stay in the hospital. Water soaked his suit jacket and shirt—something Reyes would scold him for later—but McCree didn’t care. It was worth it to see the way that Hanzo smiled at him. 

They stole a few more kisses when Hanzo was clean, as McCree helped him to dry his hair.

Dressed and clean, they returned to Hanzo’s bed in time to let one of the nurses in. There were papers to sign and injuries to be checked, but aside from lingering tenderness, there was almost no sign that Hanzo had ever been hurt.

“That’s right,” McCree remembered as the nurse left with the signed paperwork. “You have a few other visitors. Ana and Reinhardt are here, and I have a few Pokemon very eager to see you and…” Shit.

He forgot the flowers in the car.

So much for all his worrying.

Checking the doorway—empty except for the faint hints that Jack’s Miltank and Wooloo were still guarding it—McCree pulled out a few Pokeballs. “They insisted on visiting. Your Magikarp—well, Gyrados now, I guess—couldn’t because he was a little too big to fit in here.”

Hanzo’s smile was tense and McCree wondered what he thought of that. He knew that Hanzo loved that terrible, scarred creature just as he was but then again, he didn’t think that Hanzo would love him any less to have evolved. Some people were like that, though.

He was pretty sure Hanzo wasn’t.

Instead McCree released the Quagsire and Polywhirl who both rushed to Hanzo’s side. Wingull had come along as well and pecked McCree’s hand in rebuke before fluttering over to Hanzo’s bed.

McCree watched with a smile as Wingull hopped up to Hanzo and immediately began preening his wet hair. “There’s more waiting for you,” McCree assured Hanzo. “But I only allowed a few to come along or they’d all be here. Arcanine may never let you out of her sight.”

Hanzo murmured to Wingull and Jigglypuff, who had come over, in a language that McCree didn’t understand. Wingull made a low noise and rubbed his cracked and ruined beak over Hanzo’s face with a gentility that McCree almost hadn’t expected even knowing how the wretched creature loved Hanzo.

“You’d better go back,” Hanzo told Wingull and then clasped Polywhirl and Quagsire’s hands with his left. “The nurse will probably be very unhappy to see so many guests here but thank you for coming to visit me.”

Quagsire laughed and gently hugged Hanzo, lifting Polywhirl to allow him to do the same before nodding at McCree who recalled them. Wingull clicked his beak at McCree before nodding in acceptance; McCree recalled him and tucked him away on his belt with Polywhirl and Quagsire just as the nurse that had brought their forms returned.

“You’re free to go,” she said grumpily.

Hanzo smiled too-sweetly at her but before he could say anything, McCree said, “Thank you kindly. We’ll be out of your hair shortly.”

The nurse gave them both a stink look—Hanzo more so than McCree—and left.

Leaning down, McCree pressed a whiskery kiss to Hanzo’s cheek, taking another moment to rub his nose and lips into the overgrown whiskers. Clearly, personal grooming had taken a backseat to Hanzo’s physical health but McCree couldn’t find it in him to care. This was certainly scruffier than he’d ever seen Hanzo but he was surprised at how much he liked it.

“Don’t play with my scruff,” Hanzo said as if he could read his mind. His lips quirked upward slightly and McCree laughed.

“I like playing with your scruff,” McCree told him and rubbed his lips into Hanzo’s cheek again. He could hear Jigglypuff mutter to himself and though he knew that he had left his knives at home for the visit to the hospital, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t be stabbed later.

Laughing, McCree lifted the Jigglypuff. “Oh, hush,” he said and rubbed his beard against Jigglypuff’s cheek. He squirmed, grumbled, and slapped at McCree’s face. “Hurf!” Jigglypuff’s slaps were gentle, paws pushing more than hitting and McCree wiggled his scruff into the Pokemon’s cheek again. He’d probably be stabbed for it later, but like kissing Hanzo earlier, it was worth it.

“I know,” he told Jigglypuff as he put him down in favor of helping Hanzo to his feet. “I’ll pay for it later.”

Rubbing his cheek, Jigglypuff scowled at him but McCree smiled—his little face didn’t seem so dour. Hanzo scooped him up and held him close as he shuffled toward the door. “What are you waiting for?” Hanzo asked with a crooked little smirk. “Let’s go home.”

“Home?” McCree echoed, unable to help the grin that stretched across his face. He leaned close, looped his arms around Hanzo’s waist and pressed himself against his back. “I like the sound of that.”

There was more to do, still. Hanzo had to be returned to the shelter, the Pokemon there soothed—especially Hanzo’s Gyrados and McCree’s Pokemon that he hadn’t been able to bring. Ana would need to be placated and invited over for months’ worth of dinners and Reinhardt reassured that they were alive and well. Genji would need to be clued in, having missed the whole thing, and then they would need to deal with his overzealous hovering as if both of them would shatter if he left them for longer than an hour. 

Genji would prove to be the most problematic, in some ways. McCree would need to keep Hanzo and all his Pokemon from killing Genji, and he’d need to make sure that Genji’s stupid Shedinja didn’t leap into the water and drown itself.

But those were all problems for later. 

For now, walking with his arm looped around Hanzo’s waist, McCree was content in thinking only about going home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it draws to an end. 
> 
> I will probably revisit this, as Hanzo and McCree try to work around their overzealous chaperones. Otherwise, the main story arc is finished. 
> 
> Hopefully you enjoyed it. This was a fun experiment--thank you for coming along for the ride with me. Let me know what you think!
> 
> You can also find me on Twitter at [Dracoduceus](https://twitter.com/dracoduceus). 
> 
> ~DC

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I'm aware that Talonflame isn't supposed to be in the Galar region, but the reasoning for that will be explained...later. 
> 
> Did you like it? Have questions? Let me know! I love to hear your feedback. 
> 
> You can find me here or on Twitter at [Dracoduceus](https://twitter.com/dracoduceus).
> 
> Look forward to hearing from you!
> 
> ~DC


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